Schultz's Heroes
by Me
Summary: Written 1997, so not as good as others. Schultz's family hides 3 Jewish children it takes lots of faith to get through this. Some angst, Holocaust ref. was book idea as noted inside in note, now more Hoganish so it can be up somewhere
1. The Operation Begins

A/N: I found this 8-10 year old story going through things. I worked on it in my spare time as a lawyer. First it was a Hogan's story. I'd found the proper heroes in Schultz's family. They were ripe for development.

When I couldn't reach the owners of HH for permission, I pondered using original characters, but you all know how things change. Sorry, my punctuation wasn't as good as it is now. I also didn't write kids as well; another reason I never pursued it. I tried to leave out contractions and such for them then - one rarely heard Germans use them on Hogan's Heroes. I'm better at it now (I wrote kids better in 2001 or so in "Roses Are White") but sorry if they still sound too mature. I did try to change them and have them sound more their own ages now. If they're a little off, one could also argue that something like this will force one to grow up fast.

I came up with other ways to reconcile the real world with Hogan's Heroes. "The Green, Green Grass of Home" is my official idea of how it would end, except I doubt Oskar joins the Underground; he'd be drafted and they'd get him to Stalag 13, etc. (You will notice there is a hint that the hideaways in question are with Gretchen in that story.)

I merged some things so the parts with just the Schultzes weren't as long in the beginning, and added stuff from the show to explain Schultz's womanizing, Newkirk's absence (I think it is) in one episode, and Kinch's in numerous episodes, and ideas some friends and I had back then about their origin. In other words, I try to make it mesh with the entire series, which I think it does fairly well. It only implied Hogan's existence originally, focusing totally on the Schutlzes. I took out diary type thoughts of the kids, and posted for your enjoyment, and to honor the true heroes. Thanks to the American Holocaust Museum for their tremendous website, and other groups with sites telling of those who protected Jews. Their determination and sacrifice consecrate the realm of this work far more than mere words can ever do. Though it could not be a book, it is here for any to enjoy.

Finally, thanks to the Lord for His unending goodness, grace, power, and mercy. This will be one of my last stories, and is only up here because I wanted it to be up somewhere. I can't imagine going through what such people went through without the incredible faith tha I have, and even then it would be very hard. Yes, it was not all Christians who hid Jews, but some did. I know I couldn't have without God – just as, being handicapped, I could not function today without that faith. So, I do put a lot in here. That's how the book was, when it was just a quasi-Hogan's book, focusing on the others. But, I try to keep it realistic, too.

**Chapter One – The Operation Begins – Jan. 1941**

Gretchen Schultz bundled the last of her three guests into his heavy coat. A bitter wind swept through the city of Heidelberg. It sent a chill through every bone, transmitting shivers through those who even thought of venturing outside.

The visitors felt somewhat cheerful. Their lot was not a happy one, for they were Jews in the midst of Germany. Still, attempts were made to shelter them from much of the insanity surrounding their lives, and they often played joyfully with the Schultz's children as if nothing were amiss. In the last few days, their parents had left them there quite a bit; it had been more than usual since October, in fact.

"I don't want a scarf," Isaac, five, declared adamantly.

"You must wear one," insisted Gretchen. "Your mother will not want you to catch a cold." She would be mad at me, too, Gretchen thought, though she would hide it well. When the world compared you to vermin, anyone who treated you nicely was worthy of friendship. Thus, Gretchen told herself with a laugh, Mrs. Rubin would remain a friend if I accidentally gave her son pneumonia. I would not do that, but that would be better than a lot of people would wish

"When will Mr. Schultz be home," inquired Micah, seven, as Mrs. Schultz instructed her eldest, Oskar, to watch his younger siblings and led the visitors to her car.

"I am not sure, but he will be home a little. He is stationed at a prisoner of war camp," stated Gretchen, grateful to have him close to home and away from the fighting. "It is a camp where they house captured allied soldiers," she explained.

"Yes, he says the cockroach is a prisoner there," Oskar remarked. Albert, nine, rolled his eyes, and in an embarrassed voice asked Oskar not to repeat that story, as the others left the house.

Moses, one, fussed but eventually sat as Micah held him in the back of the car. Good thing Hans owned such a large company before the war, she considered concerning her husband; many now do not have such a luxury as a car.

Isaac enjoyed watching the snowflakes rush past the windows, blowing ever more furiously as a squall developed by the time they arrived. Mrs. Schultz stopped the car, wondering why no lights were on. Isn't it around supper time, she wondered, looking at her watch.

She left the car herself. Given the treacherous conditions, the children could get lost in a snowdrift, the snowy gale blew so fiercely. She took the keys, lest Micah try to drive. Just in case they aren't home, the children would be a bit warmer. A tinge of concern hit her. They were always very prompt, and she wondered if one might have had to go to the hospital.

Gretchen reflected that their friendship went back almost seven years, as she trudged through the snow and the whistling wind. They originally met because they had infants the same age. Their support for each other soon extended beyond that. When the Nazis confiscated Mr. Rubins' business in 1936, the Schultzes provided assistance. Even Hans, her husband, had helped, she considered as she banged repeatedly on the door. Hans always stated that the purpose of life was to be nice, and the patriarch had been, to his credit. He provided Mr. Rubin with a job in his large toy company which lasted until recently, when Hans was drafted.

When some others drank to the Fuhrer in Kommandant Klink's office once, he turned his back on the picture of Hitler. Mr. Schultz had refused to join the Nazi Party, simply telling others that he'd "just never gotten around to it," but secretly disagreeing with their stance on Jews. He couldn't dream of hating any person.

She saw neither lights nor movement inside as she looked around. Suddenly, she noticed a sign on the door, flapping in the bitter breeze. It held four words - "relocated, no forwarding address."

Gretchen thought there must be some mistake. Yes, others had fled, when the Germans invaded France. The region's leader had spoken of removing the Jews in his region. However, the Rubins, despite the hatred, had been determined to persevere and triumph, and felt no qualms about staying. Indeed, they insisted upon it, just as many others had in their situation. Even if they'd changed their minds, Gretchen knew they wouldn't have left without their children.

As she turned toward the car a figure, clad in a fur coat that looked to be hastily thrown on, ran up to her and pulled her aside, behind a wide tree. Gretchen shuddered for a moment, as the woman asked, "Are you here to see the Rubins?" The voice possessed a hint of a whisper, though the howling wind meant even a normal voice would be hard to hear.

"Y-yes, I have come to drop their children off." The woman gave a slow nod of understanding, and what seemed to be a look of recognition. Yes, thought the lady, named Ada, I thought I'd recognized you. "Where are they?" The bitter breeze bit at her face, even with her scarf loosely covering it. The snow whipped around them in a frenzy.

"Shhh, take the children, and go home," Ada whispered tensely. "Hopefully you have not been seen; the Lord has protected us with this squall. If you have we can protect you."

"Seen by whom, what..." Gretchen began before being shushed more emphatically. "What are you talking about," whispered the woman.

Ada explained. "The Gestapo came about an hour ago, I eavesdropped and heard them talking about where they would take them." She looked around. "I do not know if they are watching the house, but I have another key. If need be we can use that, and make it look like the children were back." Already, the mysterious woman pondered a plan. "Do you have a husband?"

"Yes, he is in the military," Gretchen began before stopping. Why am I telling her this, she wondered. "What is this about?"

Not bothering to answer questions, Ada quickly stated, "You will not be likely suspects."

"Suspects in what, what have they done?" insisted Gretchen, now gravely concerned. No, she told herself, she could not see them as spies.

"Suspects of the crime of harboring Jews," Ada hissed. "We shall talk later, now leave!"

Gretchen grabbed Ada's arm before she fled. A scarf already reconcealing her face, she turned in the direction of Gretchen. Mrs. Schultz had so many questions, she didn't know what to ask first. "Who are you, where have they gone," Gretchen sputtered. And, what kind of a crime is helping one's fellow human being, she asked herself. What kind of monsters were in power?

Ada hung her head in despair, barely able to speak the words that she sensed spelled certain horror and inevitable death. Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard. The bitter words matched the bleak surroundings, their cold tone equaling the deadly lack of compassion as she tried not to shed tears, lest they freeze halfway down her face. Her hushed, melancholy voice uttered "a place...called Buchenwald," and she fled the scene.

**-------------------------------------**

Gretchen walked into her home in a daze, the Rubins' children following. As Oskar greeted her, she slumped into a foyer chair. Three-year-old Heidi ran and leaped into her arms. "Mommy," she exclaimed happily as her mother embraced her. "What's for dinner?"

Oskar's mother looked up and inquired of the lad, "Can you make potato pancakes like I taught you?" He nodded excitedly, the eleven-year-old was proud to be able to help. "Do it, right now I am very puzzled, and need time to clear my head." She'd hoped he would recall how to, and felt extremely glad her son had listened so well when she worked with him in the fine art of cooking, even with such a simple dish.

"Is something wrong, mother?" Her look dumbfounded Oskar.

"I will tell you later, dear," she remarked, glancing toward the girl she cuddled to indicate it was a subject not to be broached in front of her tender ears.

Oskar understood and nodded. He'd had much experience keeping things away from younger siblings, including the notion that his father might not come home.

He flew into the operation of cooking like a seasoned veteran, delighted to be the man of the house. Heinrich, nearly five, followed him expectantly. "I believe I have a shadow," the pre-teen teased Heinrich. As he placed several mixing bowls on the counter, the smaller child put the entire contents of one cupboard on the counter. "Silly boy, we do not need all that!"

"What are we making," Heinrich inquired, as he poured salt indiscriminately into a bowl. He was eager to assist and expecting his older brother to allow him to help.

"I am making potato pancakes," the eldest boy remarked, holding Heinrich's arm, "and you are making a mess." He shooed the boy away as he attempted to determine how much salt went into the bowl. He poured some back into the container. "Nein, not that many potatoes," came the aggrieved voice as his little brother plopped a large amount into the biggest bowl.

The whirlwind of activity finally stopped as Heinrich asked, "When do we eat?"

Oskar grinned, recalling a joke his mother had made once. Crouching, he delivered the same response. "Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes if you help," he explained, pausing for effect, "and twenty if you do not." Oskar resumed measuring of ingredients for several minutes, only to see Heinrich pour an excess amount of flour into the bowl. "Heinrich, what are you doing? Now I will have to make twice the batch!"

"I helped you make more, then, right?"

The query seemed sincere, and Oskar recalled his parents' loving way in which they humbled themselves to understand their children. He reminded himself to be nice to his brother, realizing Heinrich could not understand all that needed to be done. He smirked. "You are a jolly joker," he said, repeating one of his dad's favorite phrases with the children. Oskar called upon his other brothers to divert Heinrich's attention, so he could focus on cooking.

He quickly gazed at his mother in worried silence. _Usually at this point, she's kidding me about getting the same treatment I'd give her when I was young_, he mused, wondering what happened.

As the children ate, little was mentioned of the Rubins' parents. The children could tell something troubled Gretchen as she tried in vain to comprehend the events of the last few hours. Oskar considered asking about it, but couldn't. First, she'd implied it was not for the younger children to hear, and, second, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

Gretchen heard a knock as she prepared to bathe the younger children. The somewhat large house featured an unfinished attic and basement, but neither housed living quarters. Gretchen hadn't considered those places for some time, until Ada stepped into the foyer and inquired about them instantaneously.

Shutting the door and locking it, Gretchen sighed. The children ran around in their underwear, but that couldn't be helped; events were spinning out of her control. She called upon the older children to corral Moses and keep him away from danger. "Now, what is this about?"

Ada suggested they sit at the kitchen table. Upon sitting, Ada remarked that, "I was not followed, that is certain. However, I saw one of the children, and if the Gestapo catch one of them here it would be very serious trouble for all of you."

Gretchen took her hands. She felt them tremble with anxiety, though a little of that vibrating was her own. "Dear, you are obviously very scared; you act just like my youngest when she has a bad dream. However, you have not even given me your name, much less told me what is going on. Please, help me understand what is troubling you. I would like to help if I can." Yes, she pondered, she shakes just like Heidi. Luckily, the darling's huge tremors are now only slight ones, but nightmares could certainly return, at her age.

Ada sighed. "I know this is going very fast for you, and I understand your bewilderment." Albert, nine, could be seen out of the corner of her eye catching Moses before he touched a wood-burning stove. "I am Adalia Hoover, or Ada, but that is unimportant. Let me begin with this. You know that the Nazis have been slowly taking away the rights of Jews?"

Gretchen nodded, vividly remembering the "Night of the Broken Glass" in 1938, and how the Rubins stayed in the Schultz home, quite fearful until the incredible destructiveness was over. The wanton vandalism inspired by the Nazis, plus the random, pointless arrests, caused their friends much grief. They'd been very thankful for the Schultz's compassion during that time.

Ada continued somberly. "The government demanded this to separate them. Now, they have begun taking them away, and they will take the children, too, if they are not well-hidden. They have, for a long time, been preaching messages of hate, surely you have heard this?"

Gretchen nodded sadly. Her children heard many terrible things at school. Their families had tried to keep the little ones far removed from the evils preached by Hitler, teaching them to be nice, but it was very hard, particularly with her husband being away. Her angry glares and sharp rebukes - so sharp her husband joked once he often thought about her "during bayonet practice" - if one of them hurt or insulted another could only go so far. It seemed inevitable, as she told Ada, that her children would have to choose for themselves to love or hate. "As much as we have taught them to always be nice, it is so hard."

Testing her, Ada agreed that, "Our leaders have said many things which are not nice. Tell me; if our leaders ordered you to kill another, would you do it?"

Gretchen recognized the dilemma Ada posed. And yet, she could fathom no leader ordering that, outside of war, where one tried to kill those from other nations. "Of course not!"

Ada pulled her purse up from beside her and removed two pieces of paper and a couple of books. They appeared to be Nazi propaganda; one, in fact, said "Mein Kampf," Hitler's book. She showed Gretchen that the covers were fake, and exposed Bibles underneath. "My dear," remarked Ada, "there is an absolute right and wrong, right here in the Bible. These covers are fake so anyone who looks will think the reader is a loyal Nazi. We are to put nobody before God, not even our leaders," Ada explained.

"This first paper is the party's newspaper; see where I circled?" Gretchen raised her eyebrows as Ada pointed out the law in the other document. "The Nazis are deporting some of them already. The leader of the Saar-Baden region, here in Southwest Germany, ordered many deported to France in November of last year, and in October, some 200 were deported from this city alone, though a few stayed and were hidden, or, in your friends' case, they remained to help others, always using false papers, though that didn't last long. That is why they were sent where they were, we believe. You have never read Mein Kampf?" Gretchen shook her head; her husband, hans, was with the Social Democratic Party. "Hitler's evil notions are in the real 'Main Kampf.'"

"They...are being deported...where," came the voice as Gretchen still tried to make sense of the situation. "What is this Buchenwald?"

"Read the document." Gretchen did, becoming stunned and sorrowful. How could all of this be? How could innocent people be in such danger? "As you can see, the Jews were denied the right to leave Germany. It appears that this was done with the expressed purpose of allowing the Germans to deport them. Now, we both know it makes no sense to tell someone they cannot leave, then force them to leave." Gretchen nodded. "It also makes no sense to preach messages of hate, then try to protect people from it."

"This is…I knew that our leaders were preaching hatred, but…"

"As you can see, in some occupied areas it is already a capital crime to hide Jews; a capital crime!" She sighed. "Our small group was able to get this copy of the law, but almost nobody will believe me. However, we fear there is something quite sinister. From what is in Hitler's book; maybe something as bad as murder."

Gretchen once again became dizzy, and forced herself to remain upright in her seat. What did their leaders think they were doing, killing innocent people? Had they not one ounce of compassion? And, if the Jews were dying, would her children be next? Would she be next? Were the Rubins already dead, and if so, how did she break that to her children, much less to theirs? After all, the Rubins were as much good babysitters as she had been. Did they fear this? Was this why they had left their children with Gretchen so much lately? The flurry of fears and questions turned her mind into the Indianapolis 500 Speedway.

Ada pondered the alternatives herself. What was past was past. Now, she needed to protect these, as well as others who might not have been taken. She'd covertly helped a number of them before this, and from what the Rubins had said, she felt the woman in front of her would also be willing.

She chose first to confirm one thought. "They told me that they were concerned. They insisted on staying, but also actively sought to help others in this area. It is best if you keep the children in the attic or basement," Ada remarked. "Gretchen - Mrs. Rubin told me your name - they will not come after you or your children without cause. However, they will arrest you if they know you are harboring Jews. They have made it a capital crime to assist a Jewish person in any way in some occupied territories. If they wished to simply separate Jews from the rest of us, would they make it punishable by death to so much as assist one?" Gretchen shook her head, dazed and confused. "So many people blindly follow Hitler, without thinking," Ada lamented. "Now, once the heat is off, we could try to get the children to Switzerland, but it would be very risky, and without parents there would be many questions. The Swiss officially are not taking refugees, but there is a border guard we can go through."

If Gretchen chose not to help, she understood the rationale, and could get the children to Switzerland herself. She could understand it if Gretchen put her family first, but she really hoped Gretchen would help.

Mrs. Schultz pondered it. The children whom she watched could soon be parentless. Even with this bit about murder being speculation right now, she knew something awful was happening when families could be totally uprooted, when so much terror was already filing their lives.

These children didn't just need to escape, they needed love, support, and comforting. How much of that could be given in a basement or attic? Probably very little; but they would be with people they knew. This was a positive to remaining even if they were guaranteed to get through to a Swiss orphanage, a prospect which Ada had correctly asserted would be very difficult. That would be a trip of several hundred miles, through numerous checkpoints.

Theoretically, she and her family could try to make it with them, but where would her husband be? He would be without a home, and perhaps imprisoned himself. She understood the Gestapo and SS had been known to do very bad things to people. Therefore, she could not leave him.

Hence, Gretchen made a determination which would change her life for the foreseeable future. She wasn't sure how long - but she determined that only one real choice existed. She wanted to cry, but remained resolute, her voice cracking as she spoke. "They can stay with us for however long it takes to end the terrible laws which have been passed against them."

Ada smiled broadly. "I knew you would choose this. Mrs. Rubin and I discussed finding a place of refuge. She said if anything happened before then, she knew where her children would be safest; that she could trust you with their lives."

The thought was too much for Gretchen to handle, and she broke into a stream of tears. Oskar noticed as he meandered out to the kitchen to report on the bathing process. "Mother, what is the matter," he began, rushing to hug her. Has something happened to Father so soon, he asked himself? But, he was supposed to be safe at a prisoner of war camp. "Is...is it about Father?"

Gretchen noticed the query, but could not bring herself to answer other than a small shaking of her head. Ada decided it wouldn't be imposing too much if she explained part of the problem. "It is about the Rubins, Oskar - your friends' parents. Something terrible has happened to them."

Oskar turned to Gretchen. "Is...this what you wanted to tell me about, that you would not say in front of Heidi."

She nodded, wiping away the last of this round of tears. "Oskar...remember how we said the Nazis were telling us to hate Jews, and how we said not to believe our leaders?" He nodded, and his mother continued. "It is worse than we could have imagined. They have taken the Rubins to a place called Buchenwald, where they could possibly be killed." Oskar's mouth stood agape, as he struggled with believing it, he was so unaccustomed to imagining anything evil "It is true, my son..." she began, weeping slightly. How had they allowed it to come to this, she asked herself? She could not bring herself to utter the fact that the Rubins' children were also targeted.

Oskar slumped into a seat with disgust. He recognized what his mother could not say. He felt a little wary, but as he thought about it, he became resolute, the Spirit working in him just as his friend Otto had talked about. With a growing look of determination, he stated, "I will protect them at all costs." He smiled with great contentment as his mother nodded and grinned. "You know my friend Otto; he is a Christian, though his parents don't know it." Otto was in his middle teens; they'd played soccer together quite a bit. "A few weeks ago, I realized I needed Jesus in my life, that I was a sinner and needed His forgiveness. I got saved, and Jesus rules my heart now." He felt bad that he hadn't told her before; maybe she could have turned to God this evening when she looked so bewildered. "I really disliked what our leaders were saying, but I couldn't explain why. But, he can put things into words that I can't. All I know is, I want to be like him. So I can tell others about how bad our leaders are."

"We are going to need His help to protect the Rubins' children," Gretchen remarked candidly, looking at Oskar, then at Ada again. "I sometimes am quite sharp with others, especially with Hans, when I do not need to be. I remember a long time ago trusting Christ to save me, but…I have not really lived for Him as I should." She admitted that sometimes, she lacked the faith she should have. "With the Church underground, and now Hans away, we talk about God but have not kept it up. I suppose Oskar does not remember it that well, as it has been a few years."

Ada led Gretchen in a prayer of rededication, and they spoke thankfully of how God loves them and would help her even now. "Oskar, since you are going to keep them here, you must not draw attention to yourselves. Otherwise you might endanger the others."

His mother agreed; as much as they hated thinking about the things their leaders said, this was not the time to be reckless. There would come times when she would be upset enough that she would rather take up arms and storm one of those camps, but even then, her focus had to be on protecting her children. Oskar finally accepted this.

She could tell Gretchen's head was spinning, and offered one other piece of hope. "My husband, Frederick, is a local grocer," Ada finished. "He and I will help you with the children whenever you need. We have a small group who will protect the Jews who remain here. Sadly, it will be very hard to get any out. I will provide you with maps and safe havens should you need to travel, though, as well as false IDs for the children."

Oskar, meanwhile, considered how amazing it was to have a personal relationship with the Lord. He'd felt great respect for his father before, and had begun to have it for his leaders until his parents and, to a lesser extent, Otto had shown him how they were distorting the truth. Now, he could talk with the Lord any time, and expect an answer. He'd long been able to focus on tasks. This would be the most important of his life. He would be keeping people alive.

It amazed him; this was so much more than simply being the "man of the house" and helping with chores. He knew he would need help.

Oskar pondered whether he should tell Otto about this. Otto could assist him greatly, being several years older than he. However, the next day, while walking home from school, he noticed a "psst" emanating from a group of bushes. Inching over and looking around, he half expected the grocer, Frederick, to appear, though he didn't know exactly where his grocery store was.

However, much to his surprise, Otto peeked out for a second, then pulled Oskar into the snow-covered bushes. As Oskar brushed snow from his face, Otto whispered in his ear. "Oskar, my parents found out."

"What? How!?" was all the response the lad could muster. Otto covered his hair with the hood of his coat and glanced around.

"They found me reading the Bible, they snuck in when I was not looking," Otto explained. "They forced me to swear allegiance to Hitler. I told them I would not..."

"I have a friend with a Bible with a fake cover. They'll think you are reading 'Mein Kampf,'" Oskar explained matter-of-factly.

Otto shook his head. "They will not let me, they are going through all my books, and burning them," the teen insisted. A tinge of fear in his voice, Otto remarked that "they are giving me one more chance, and they say they will send me to a 're-education center' if they ever catch me reading about anything which could go against the Nazi Party."

With the casual air and cool demeanor which belied his age, a bearing Oskar readily adopted when fixed on something - in this case, reassuring his friend - he spoke. "I asked Jesus to be my Lord and Savior just like you; I know He can do great things. He will help you."

Otto admired the intense confidence of Oskar's youth. He hoped that Oskar would never lose that faith. However, he remarked that, "It is too late for me to do any good, except to pray and worship in secret. Of course, remember what I said, prayer is the most important job we have. Hopefully you will remember our talks, my friend." He got up to leave, but Oskar grabbed his arm. "What," came the annoyed question.

"Otto, do you not want to know...mmpf" His mouth felt a hand slapping it shut.

"I want to know nothing!" came the voice eerily like Oskar's father's. "If they ever do send me away I could be forced to give out information. If I do not know about whatever you are saying, it cannot be dragged out of me. I wish I could help, but I cannot, except I will pray for you." The teen rose, found there was nobody watching him, and instructed Oskar to depart from the bushes a minute after he did. Wishing to leave his friend on a happier note, he turned around and whispered that "you are not alone. God promises He will never leave you nor forsake you."

Oskar promised to remember that, as his friend vanished. He waited a moment, determining what allies he had left in this crazy scenario. He could find few - his entire world had been turned upside-down. Certainly, he knew his leaders hated Jews, and that that hatred was sinful. However, he'd never contemplated that such wickedness could exist in the world, especially in his own country.

However, he'd gleaned from talks with Otto how wonderful the Lord could be. He was certain he could ask God for something, and the prayer would be answered. They needed protection, guidance, and so much more, things which only the Lord could aid them with, given the confusing nature of these times when their leaders were practicing pure evil. Oskar walked home and prayed intensely for several hours. Then, the air raid siren sounded, sending everything into a greater state of confusion.

12


	2. Everyone Plays a Part

**Chapter Two – Everyone Plays A Part**

The Jewish children stayed and played in the basement, and hid behind boxes. This seemed fine for now. However, Gretchen knew she would need to devise a more secure hiding place. A couple Royal Air Force bombers had strayed from Mannheim – a consistent target – because of faulty direction, though after the U.S. entered the war, Heidelberg generally escaped bombing because of American desires to use it afterward. As these planes sprayed their bombs, she and Oskar prayed that they would not be hit. The children seemed greatly agitated, drawing embarrassing questions from Heinrich and Heidi, who, being too young to understand, had been told that the Rubins were in the hospital.

Gretchen found that, thankfully, the younger children had fallen asleep. Oskar, though, remained alert, feeling different portions of the walls and floor, and considering whether a good tunnel might be constructed. "Mother," he inquired tiredly, somehow keeping his eyes open, "what kind of floor is under here?" He yawned.

"It is a rather simple...dirt floor" was interrupted by a large yawn. "Excuse me. Anyway, if you are thinking what I am, where do we hide the dirt?"

Oskar shrugged. "Why not under the snow?" It seemed very simple to his yet developing mind. "We would need to tunnel up someplace, just in case the...was it the Gestapo?" She shushed him, as Heinrich seemed to stir, then rolled over. In a lower voice, he remarked, "In case the Gestapo come down, they can go out another way."

Gretchen looked greatly puzzled. "But...out where?" Using one of Ada's code names, she commented that "Esther's house is blocks away, we could not possibly tunnel that far." Tremors and whimpers began to fill Heidi's body, and Gretchen rubbed her back. "It is all right, dear, it is only a dream," she stated sweetly, and the tremors died down. She continued to rub her daughter's back as a stray bomb hit very near them.

Oskar remarked that "The tree trunk in Mrs. Mueller's backyard could be hollowed out. There is some brush around it, perhaps we could sneak the children out there."

"Perhaps..." She listened to the calm. "The noise has stopped. I should go out and check..."

"No, Mother, I will go," came Oskar's attempt at bravery. Part of it, of course, was striving to determine just how much the Lord would help him.

She nixed the idea for now, knowing that it could still be dangerous. However, she knew that some risky behavior could become needed. "Oskar..." she began, lowering her voice to ensure none of the other exhausted children heard her in that dark, cold basement. "You have grown to accept well the notion that your father may not live after this war. I believe it is best to consider that I, too, may have to sacrifice to save you children and the Rubins'."

The notion stunned and scared him. "You mean..."

"Yes." Her voice was firm, but resolute. "I will be back now, but I wish to ease you into the thought of going to Ada's and Frederick's, and starting on your way to Switzerland without me." She debated for the seventeenth time whether she could trust the eleven-year-old, and decided for the fourteenth that she could. She knew they would find another adult to help them. "Do not fear, for the Bible says the Spirit will teach us what to say in the eleventh hour."

Oskar wished to avoid the thought. Possibly losing both parents greatly disturbed his still-fragile faith, so he dismissed it, as if it were a bad dream. He knew they would survive.

However, a small part of him wasn't sure if he could trust anyone outside of his family. After all, in the last several days his own leaders, whom he was supposed to honor, had turned out to be destroyers of families at best, and could be murderers; his best friend had been forced to leave him; and his childhood had been wrenched away by concerns over three small, innocent friends.

That last, perhaps the most crushing blow, left him only one choice. He needed to grow much faster, to immerse himself in the Lord, who promises great rewards to those who overcome. Otto had taught him wonderful truths. God answers prayers, and God never leaves anyone who trusts in Him. Those who do not have the Lord choose that destructive route of hatred, but God doesn't stop trying to make them follow His perfect love while on Earth.

After several moments, Oskar nodded slowly, and requested only two things. "A lamp, and a Bible." He sank to his knees and prayed, then studied many other great men who faced problems. He fell asleep reading, finally sapped of strength.

-------------------------------------

Gretchen stumbled in the darkness, finding and opening the front door. Sleepily, she determined that no damage had occurred in the neighborhood. She walked next door to Mrs. Mueller's, a widow in her seventies. Mr. Mueller had perished in World War One, and his wife and the Schultzes were close. She peeked into the window, only to find the home deserted. Good, she told herself, Mrs. Mueller made it into the basement...wait. She peeked into another window, and saw Mrs. Mueller lying on the floor, apparently passed out, perhaps from the shock. She knocked hard, but there was no answer. She sighed, and opened the door. Mrs. Mueller kept it unlocked. Gretchen walked over and felt the woman's pulse, as she thought scornfully about how safe her leaders made it seem for Mrs. Mueller, and how treacherous for anyone who did what was right.

There was no pulse. Trembling slightly, Gretchen checked for breathing. The woman's skin seemed noticeably pale. She must have collapsed of a heart attack, Gretchen pondered sadly. She called the hospital and reported that there was a casualty, but they were too busy dealing with the injured. Oh, well, Gretchen pondered, she won't suffer any more indignity laying here for a couple hours. Having nobody else to check on, she went back inside her own place.

Then, the phone rang.

"Mrs. Gruber," came Ada's voice with her code name, "it is I, Esther."

"How are you doing? Did you survive the air raid," Gretchen inquired, wondering, in the back of her mind, if her new friend had anything more bizarre to tell her.

"Yes, but my husband thinks this is the right time to take care of the Rubins' home. Now, before the daylight comes." Ada's voice seemed quite resolute. Amazing Gretchen further was that Ada appeared to be wide awake. Did she often deny herself sleep? came the thought

Her musings on another level centered around the meaning of Ada's statement. From a practical perspective, taking the heat off of them was good. It had been reported that the Rubin children were dropped off, thanks to Gretchen's own "anonymous tip." However, each time the Nazis checked, they were said to be out playing.

"We have explosives, which we shall place in the home," continued Ada. "Bring the childrens' snowsuits and some other items, whatever you can spare."

"What about a body?" came the inquiry. Mrs. Schultz may have been sleepy, but she was awake enough to know...wait a minute, she thought. "I know where there might be one, she has no family in the area, and she had no children..." Would it work? Could it work?

Ada considered the remarkable way in which the Lord worked. However, hadn't the doctors been called?

"Not told precisely who or where, they were too busy with the injured," Gretchen remarked, recognizing what Ada might be thinking. "If you can find a doctor who will wait till later, maybe years, to report it..." The notion sounded ludicrous to her, but she would give it a try.

"Yes, good thinking. I know of one," Ada told her. This must be a huge network, the mother thought out loud. "The network is small, really - the smaller it is, the easier to keep infiltrators out. There are numerous left hands which do not know what the right hands are doing; this doctor will sign a certificate and date it later, but he does not know why, and it can be made to look legitimate if there is a problem. Does this woman have any family?"

"No, and she hardly gets out at all," Gretchen considered, suddenly noticing that she'd begun talking of her friend in the present tense. Had they, as a people, become so accustomed to believing everything they hear that they changed tenses whenever someone else did, regardless of the circumstance? The thought troubled her.

Ada sounded pleased, startling the mother. "Good. That is the only way you can keep up the notion of taking food to her," Ada remarked. "You cannot, of course, hide the children in her place, but it will help you explain buying more food." Gretchen shook her head vigorously, thinking about housing the Rubins in Mrs. Mueller's place. The idea appealed to her, but she forced herself to dismiss it. If they were later forced to account for her and claim that she disappeared, they would be back to the drawing board or worse. If the children were to be safe, they would have to remain with them.

She smiled, recalling something Oskar had offered. "My eldest, Oskar, the one you spoke to? He suggested hollowing out a tree trunk in Mrs. Mueller's backyard."

Ada looked pleased at the creative thinking. Fitting, she considered, from a family like that, for their father obviously needed to brainstorm ideas for his company. "Instruct him to begin it. It must be for emergencies only, though, or to fool people. Of course, you will need a key, and to lock Mrs. Mueller's if it was not already." Gretchen gave her acceptance of these terms; Mrs. Mueller did lock it when she left, she would simply take the elderly lady's key.

Ada considered suggesting that Mrs. Mueller be seen to have moved in with them. However, she dismissed those, as she didn't want to make this too complex. Certain strategies could be orchestrated with adults, but not with slammer children. Besides, that would not be trusting completely in God, and by often going in and out of Mrs. Mueller's, they would not need to say anything to anyone about what had happened.

Hence, she simply told Gretchen to "pile the things I told you to in the car, our doctor will come over to look at Mrs. Mueller." That should be about six, Ada thought to herself, and by then we shall have the house rigged, so it looks like a stove or heater exploded. Yes, she pondered sadly, that would be a good cover-up, allowing them to escape even an investigation.

Gretchen slowly gathered the requested items, sensing this act, if nothing before had, would cement their relationship with the Rubin children. She thought little of the destruction she was about to bring, forcing herself out of that frame of mind. The parents were already gone, or soon would be. Somebody would simply inhabit the house, not caring who had lived there before them, and she didn't want to encourage that kind of thoughtlessness. Checking her basement, she discovered that the children slept soundly, and chose not to wake them. That was better, she determined. If she kept them ignorant about the explosion, they would not be implicated. She prayed once more that her children and the Rubins' children would make it out of the war alive.

As she loaded the car and drove off, she pondered why she'd become so fatalistic that she didn't pray for herself. Perhaps the monstrosity of hurting innocents created it. Perhaps she simply realized that, despite all her leaders espoused about a "master race," she could be next, anyway. Regardless, she decided the Lord wouldn't mind if she also requested that His protection also cover her. Still, as she told the Lord silently, the children always come first.

She drove up in front of the Rubins' home, with Frederick and Ada outside. They quietly moved the items in, often glancing around to ensure that nobody watched them. Then, they fled, the explosion set to occur mere minutes after they closed the door for the last time.

Gretchen looked in with a tinge of regret at Mrs. Mueller, whose death the friendly doctor had certified. The body lay in the kitchen, nearly on top of the items which would blow up, lifeless but yet full of warmth. She had, after all, been a fellow human. She stepped within several yards of her old friend one last time. "I never asked you if you believed what they said about the Jews," Gretchen remarked, suddenly fighting back tears, "but thank you for helping to save three of them." And thank you, Lord, that you timed her death in this way. Frederick anxiously motioned her outside, and they locked the door, Frederick setting the timer. It may be a miracle if she lives to complete this mission, Frederick deduced sadly, noticing how emotional she seemed.

Not two minutes later, a loud blast resounded. People would associate it with the air raid, she tried to tell herself, and we will call the fire department quickly so nobody else is hurt. The Nazis, in their wickedness, might well have ordered the home destroyed, anyway.

Still, her heart pumped much more strongly, seemingly in the region of her larynx, much of that Saturday morning. She deliberated whether or not to tell the children. She knew they needed to know at some point. Her desire to hide them from terror - the same desire that prompted Mrs. Rubin to shield her children from the hostility of the surrounding populace - kept her from doing so. She wished to keep them innocent.

However, as harsh pounding interrupted their routine, she realized that might not be possible.

"Gestapo," came the word which sent chills down her spine. She glanced around to ensure the Rubin children were in the basement, and that her own offspring were in the living quarters of the home. She sighed – Albert and Carl, who was seven, were out playing, but that couldn't be helped. A quick glance out the window showed they were okay, at least. She asked the Lord for protection as she hastily opened the door.

Two Gestapo agents, seemingly statues outside in the cold, inched forward. "Good day, Ma'am, we just wanted to ask a few questions about the Rubin children," one said.

Forcing herself to remain composed, she resisted the urge to keep the agent outside, as he seemed intent on getting in. "Well, whatever can you mean, I took them back home two days ago." She didn't mention that she also failed to let them out of the car.

The agent looked around, noticing the Schultz children happily playing with toys or reading. He smiled as he eyed Oskar with the book he'd grabbed on hearing them. It appeared to be a copy of "Mein Kampf." Oskar avoided the man's gaze, then - as he turned - surveyed him from just above the book. The eldest peeked at Heinrich and Heidi playing with small blocks to his right, the Holy Spirit seemingly planting an idea in his mind as he quickly prayed.

Gretchen examined the man, his lack of uniform reminding her how dangerous it would be to tell anyone about the children. She debated what to do as he scanned the area.

"You have many nice toys here," chatted the man as amicably as possible. Small talk caused him to struggle. "I understand your husband owned a toy company before being drafted." She nodded. "Ever join the Party?"

She knew he spoke of the Nazis. Hiding her contempt, she tried to recall Hans' pat answer. "My husband was just too busy," she reported. "We are a traditional family. I would not do anything that he did not do first, even if it seemed the right thing." There, she told herself, that throws suspicion off of me. They said being a military wife, I would be less scrutinized, hopefully they were right. "If he did it, we would."

The sergeant gave a look of fake compassion. "It is no crime to go first. In fact, we in the Gestapo encourage people to be first, with any assistance they can give." He knew many who, while not official members, would still obey their leaders. He got down to business, moving toward the basement. "We came to see if you'd heard from them, there was an explosion in the house, and they seem to have perished..." He uttered a derogatory comment.

Oskar saw the agent near the basement, and suddenly zoomed over to Heinrich and Heidi. "Quick," Oskar whispered insistently, almost in their faces, "both of you, throw a tantrum."

Heinrich stared at his older brother, while Heidi uttered a loud "no!"

Oblivious, Gretchen explained that she heard a couple explosions associated with the air raid, and while one agent's hand neared the door handle, to make a cursory glance downstairs, the battle of wits in the living room intensified.

Oskar grabbed a block out of Heidi's hand, seeing her as the most willing to yell and scream. He recalled that Heinrich had been a rather sneaky toddler, whereas Heidi had been the one with the more shrieking, stomping tantrums. She is more distracting, anyway, he determined.

"Gimme it, Gimme, GIMME," hollered the little girl as Oskar danced around with the block just out of her reach. She kicked the air like a ballerina, falling on her rump. "Gimme!!!" She began to shriek and kick.

Now, to get Heinrich into the act, if I can, the older boy thought. He threw the block a foot over his younger brother, ensuring it didn't hit him.

"No. Stop it," Heinrich hollered. When Oskar said "make me," he began yelling and pushing. All of this took place as Heidi kicked violently on the ground, screeching like a banshee.

Gretchen, unsure of what to do, mumbled "wait" to the agent, intent on putting Heidi in her room, then distracted by the screaming from Heinrich. The agent followed her, increasingly dazed, as the other one stepped outside. They are acting up to get my attention, he determined. Oskar, seeing them coming around the corner, yelled at Heidi to stop.

"NO!!" came the bellowing child, "you're the one who started it!" Because of the fountain of tears, neither adult could understand what the girl had said.

Heinrich instantly pushed Oskar, screaming at him to "stop bothering my sister."

The agent, sensing that little could be done, excused himself, remarking that he had "no real need to come here. I am sorry." He left quickly with a pulsating headache, the shrieking children greatly annoying the man who refused to have a family. He vowed he would never return, deciding that - since he was allowed right in, there was no nervousness when he mentioned the children, and Gretchen's answer matched what the records showed - he could close the case. He fled quickly. He had to - the intense, high-pitched screams would hurt his ears for days.

Before she could enter the living room, Carl stepped into the doorway. He had a black eye.

Gretchen ran to him and looked at it. "Dear, what happened," inquired Gretchen as she led him to the medicine cabinet. "Were you in a fight?" This is the last thing we need, she thought.

Albert looked around, and then stepped inside. "The Gestapo are talking to the others."

"They started it," the boy whined.

"Who?" she asked as she dabbed at the wound to clean it.

"A couple kids. They said bad things about Jews," he said, and suddenly fear struck Gretchen.

Gretchen asked the next question very carefully, as Oskar came into the kitchen. "Dear," she spoke, trying to conceal her distress, "did you say anything to them?"

"Just that they was stupid for sayin' that," he remarked, sensing his mother's fear. "Is... something wrong?"

As Gretchen struggled for something to say, Albert made sure the Gestapo weren't there, and explained lowly. "They started teasing him, that's when he punched one kid, and got punched back." So, will they still suspect us, she asked herself. She wondered if she could turn that around, making it seem like Carl thought the label was intended at hi, not at Jews.

The second Gestapo agent came in; the first was outside, hesitant, his head still pounding. "Boys will be boys," Gretchen said as an excuse.

"I cannot believe this, Carl!" Oskar ad libbed. He wanted desperately to protect him. He, too, was uncertain what the Gestapo would think, and wished to remind Carl how to act – and maybe to pray with him, too. He grabbed his hand before the Gestapo could say anything. "Excuse me, as the man of the house I must have a word with my brother!" he said in a voice that he hoped would make the Gestapo think he was about to scold or even punish the boy.

"We…" The second agent saw Oskar grab the supposed copy of Mein Kampf and wave it in the air, gesturing while also whispering instructions to Carl. He rubbed his chin, puzzled.

Gretchen shrugged. "My son heard a name, he could have thought it was meant toward him. What he did was wrong, and he knows it." Indeed he could have - that was no lie. "Oskar will make sure of it." The first agent dared to come back in, as the screaming had died down for the most part. Heidi now knew that even requested tantrums got her no attention, and Albert, as a precaution, took the youngest two into the older boys' bedroom.

"Your boy reads 'Mein Kampf?" the first agent says.

Her mind on the fake covers, she said, "Cover to cover." She was questioned, then asked to repeat what she'd said once Oskar and Carl returned. She laid the blame on the other boy.

The agent then turned to Carl. "Is what your mother says true?"

"My parents taught me never to lie. It is very bad," noted the lad, slyly staying away from what happened. It had been that boy's fault, all right, but for different reasons.

"But, you have not said anything yet! Were there any remarks about Jews made?"

"I am certain that Carl will remember Who is the real authority," Oskar said, referring to God but hoping the agents thought he meant Hitler. Oskar had told Carl to trust the Lord to help him not have to lie, and also to not elaborate.

"Perhaps we should hear Carl's account now," one agent remarked, a little testily, as the other ushered Gretchen and Oskar out of the room.

"I just want to ask a couple of questions." The agent glared at Carl. "Is your family friends with any Jews?"

Carl explained that "we knew one once, the Rubins. They went away," he said, referring to the parents. The agent asked about the fight. "I heard that boy called me a name." Which was true, he considered – but only after Carl had hollered at him.

The agent was somewhat satisfied that Carl could have thought the comment was toward him. "You were friends with the Rubins' oldest. Do you have any feelings about his being gone?".

Carl pounced on that question. "No," he declared emphatically. So that's how God does it, he thought to himself. This fellow thinks they're dead or something, and I don't have any feelings about them being dead, since they're alive. So, I don't have to lie when I say "no."

Ht eagent seemed calmer. "It does not bother you that you may never see them again?"

"No," Carl remarked, again true. He would see them again. So, how could not seeing them bother him? Hadn't he read something about letting your "yes" be "yes" and your "no" be "no"?

"And you presently have no Jewish friends," came the last question, to which Carl shook his head. Gretchen had said they were practically brothers now, not just friends. The agent ordered the other agent, Gretchen, and Oskar into the room. He told Gretchen, "There seems to be no problem. It was probably an innocent thing. He was very certain when I questioned him"

The other agent spoke. "I questioned her, too. She informs me there have been problems in all the children associated with the stress of war and her husband being away." He held his forehead, thinking of the screaming. "I can believe that."

The Gestapo left, promising they wouldn't have to return concerning the matter, which they didn't. The Rubin children, as far as they were concerned, were gone.

Carl smiled with glee as the car drove off. The Lord had gotten them out of a major scrape by having them tell the truth, because these people were too hurried to get at the facts behind their "yes" and "no" answers. He knew God could do amazing things.

Gretchen grinned contentedly, glad to be able to trust in an ever-faithful Lord. "We did it," Gretchen shouted victoriously, hugging them. Albert brought the youngest two out as he heard this, figuring that the danger was past.

One more problem remained, though, when Oskar apologized for the earlier incidents. "I am sorry about the tantrums, Mother; I was just afraid he would go downstairs and find the Rubins."

Gretchen sighed. Yes, the cat fled the bag with great haste after that statement. If she didn't know whether to tell the youngest children before, she now knew it was mandatory.

"What does he mean," Heinrich inquired with great incredulity, expecting an easy answer.

Gretchen held up a finger. "In a minute, dear." As Oskar's mother turned toward him, she recalled...was it Hamlet who had once told someone that "there's method to my madness." Yes, this was a rather mad way of handling things, but it had a method, the method a child would select. Luckily, it had worked. Lowly, she instructed him to look forlorn, as if she were scolding him. "I want it to look that way for them, so they know not to hurt or bother others, no matter what. What you did was probably the best that could have been done under the circumstances."

The oldest boy nodded meekly as his mother lowly pretended to chastise him. His notion had been a spur of the moment thing, but thankfully, it had worked. In the end, Gretchen added a final, low "danke." She sat Heinrich and Heidi on her lap, hugged them for a few moments, and spoke sadly. "Children," she began, "Mr. and Mrs. Rubin are dead or may soon be dead, and we are hiding their children, because some very bad people - called the Gestapo or the SS - want to kill them because they are Jews. Promise you will never, ever tell anyone we are hiding the children. If you do tell anyone we are hiding the children, they will kill you, too." I wish I didn't have to scare them like this, Gretchen considered, but it is the truth. Ensuring they do not tell is something we will have to constantly work on, she deduced, but it will be worth it. Dear Lord, let it be worth it, please, she said silently.


	3. Setting the Stage for More Heroes

**Chapter Three – ****February****, 1941 – Setting the Stage for More Heroes**

Oskar considered what he planned to send in his letter to his father at Stalag 13. He felt badly about lying, and decided to let his mother handle the comments about taking food to Mrs. Mueller's. He looked around the dark passageway, several feet wide, in which he sat sweating, and determined that more reinforcements and a little widening would be needed before they went all the way to the tree trunk.

But, where would they get wooden beams? The dangers of a cave-in badgered him, try as he might to forbid the devil from tricking him. The hand of God could build it, but the devil could knock it down. The imagery made him snicker, as he pondered Heidi, at a younger age, constantly knocking down the towers constructed by his brothers.

He heard two sets of footprints, but felt no fear. There was a distinct difference between shoes and heavy military boots. He recognized the pitter-patter as belonging to Albert and Heinrich. "Come on up. We're going to blow out the candles," exclaimed the new five-year-old, accompanied because he was still leery of the dark.

Oskar contemplated the tunnel while nodding. The utter darkness seemed depressing to some, but to him, it merely made the Lord's light shine all the more. He'd immersed himself in the Bible since the beginning of the bizarre circumstances that led to the building of this tunnel. He opened the trap door, neatly concealed under an easily movable chest of old clothes, and wiped the sweat off his brow, donning his shirt. Even the dimly lit cellar made him blink several times before his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the sweat gleaming on him as he wiped his arms with a rag, just in case. There would hopefully soon be two other ways - through the soon-to-be finished emergency tunnel or the entrance under a barrel in the back of their house.

As he walked past the Rubins, he felt deep sorrow. Two months ago, they would be upstairs celebrating with his brother. Yet, he reminded himself there was one good thing – they were still alive. Indeed, he felt a special friendship toward them, though he couldn't explain why. He decided to suggest to his mother that perhaps they could hold the blowing out downstairs. If only I could take their place, he said to himself. Shaking his head, he slowly trudged up the steps.

Blinking profusely, he froze momentarily, eyeing his father as the obese guard walked into the door. He noticed that the man, Hans Schultz, wore different stripes. Had he been promoted, Oskar wondered. Suddenly, he realized that he had to dodge him. He asked the Lord to conceal the Rubins' children from his dad, and to keep him from having to lie.

Heinrich ran to their father first, the others more comfortable meandering in the darkness. Carl and Heidi also ran to Hans, and as Oskar entered audio range, he learned that his father had advanced to a position as chief of the guards.

"I will need it, too, with all the food the children are eating," their father joked as he hugged Oskar and Carl. "Oskar, the snow is not all melted and you are already dirty," came the combination tease and chiding. "Can you not set a good example for your younger siblings?"

Oskar smiled. "I keep them clean by taking all the mud they would take," the boy joked. He had done much of the digging, though the others assisted. Oskar knew more about supporting it so the ground could not cave in, too. He breathed a sigh of relief as the question was dropped. Father probably assumes we were just tussling a lot in the basement, he pondered.

"Well, you do a good job of it. Guess what? I got a promotion!" Schultz looked quite excited, a huge grin on his face, as he added, "They are even talking about making me Sergeant of the Guard someday." There had been escapes under other guards' watches, but not under his – Kommandant Klink had not yet arrived.

Oskar was delighted, though a little concerned that this meant his dad supported the Party - the Party that had robbed his friends of their parents, their childhood, and their safety. Bouncing a little, he loudly declared, "That is wonderful news, Father. Yes, we are eating a lot, we have grown a lot." He hoped his mother was right, that they would seem much bigger to Hans. Oskar continued to speak noisily, walking toward the open door to ensure the Rubins' children would hide. "It is great to see you again, Father, can you stay long?"

He closed the door, unsure of whether he wanted him to stay or not. He still loved the man, but he'd grown to care deeply about Micah, Isaac, and Moses. And, for the life of him, he couldn't be sure whether his father could be trusted to keep a secret. Even if he could, would the Gestapo be able to drag it out of him, as Otto had warned?

Hans smiled, glad to be able to share in one child's birthday, if he couldn't be there all the time. "I want a piece of that cake," Schultz remarked.

"I helped Mommy make it," exclaimed Heidi.

Heidi's dad smiled at her as Gretchen teased him. "Is food all you ever think about?"

"It is when my precious little girl makes it," he commented, bubbling at the darling, blond-haired girl who gazed lovingly at him. He was happy to finally have had a daughter. He considered that a family wasn't total until there were sons and daughters. Besides, he'd always expected his boys to be nice, and having a little girl taught his children to be especially courteous to ladies.

With the delight he took in having a little girl, it was no wonder that, a few years later, when Kommandant Klink remarked that they weren't "holding a girl," he said that he wished he was. Of course, Klink was referring to a young lady the Gestapo was holding then.

Schultz heard noise downstairs, and inclined an ear toward the cellar as Moses' crying - kept getting louder. Recalling what she'd been told to do earlier, Heidi pretended to act like a baby, suddenly making funny crying noises. The cries turned into giggles as she pretended more and more and as her brothers tickled her and made funny faces at her, but they served their purpose. "Oh, you are trying to act like little Wolfgang, eh," her father remarked, chuckling.

Oskar, chosen to be their official spokesman, nodded. He remarked of his infant cousin that "Wolfie is fun, we love having babies around." Could he trust Wolfgang's parents...no, it was too hard to know who to trust. He experienced shock at his loss of faith, but tried to remind himself that God would help him, forcing those thoughts out of his mind.

After Hans left that evening, returning from his 24-hour pass, Oskar went down to the Jewish children. He gazed up at Heidi, waiting at the top of the stairs, and concluded that his little sister had to conquer her fear of the dark way too fast if they ever needed to evacuate. Wishing to allow her to see the children, he brought them up to the main floor.

"Oskar, you know what a chance you are taking," his mother spoke sternly.

"I have rehearsed the plan with them, if there is a knock on the door," explained the eleven-year-old. Soon to be twelve, he felt he possessed great skill in explaining things - he was old enough to understand complex subjects, yet young enough to recall how young children thought.

Albert, putting excess food into bags for the Rubins, shook his head. Always very practical, he knew careful preparation was needed. "Yes, but have you practiced it?"

Oskar looked at him, bemused. "My tantrum idea wasn't rehearsed, and God pulled us through."

"But, practice makes perfect." Gretchen cleaned the dishes, mildly agreeing with Albert but resolving to stay out of this dispute unless it became too heated. The situation, still terribly confusing, would require all of their brainpower. "What if Heidi gets scared going down there?'

"I will not be scared," Heidi insisted, hands on her hips.

Albert glanced sideways at her. "Then go downstairs right now!"

"But it's so dark." Thinking of how to extract herself from her declaration, she commented that, "Well, I am a tiny bit scared, but not really."

Oskar nodded slowly. Albert is right, he realized. We do need to practice.

Gretchen decided now was the time to enter, if only to soothe her daughter. Comforting the younger ones will come with time, she told herself, but even Oskar is still very young. She knew he might not think of it right now, so she knelt down and hugged the child herself. "It is all right to admit you are scared, my dear. It is just like with your nightmares, the devil tries to trick us, but you know, Jesus knows what it is like, and He can comfort you. In order for Him to help, though, you have to tell the truth about it."

Albert agreed swiftly. "See what I mean? We try to be Schultz's Heroes, but only with practice will we know what works. We cannot just make it look like we know what we are doing."

Gretchen nodded. As Oskar pondered the notion, she considered her own worst fears, that there would be no time. She'd thought of letting the children go themselves if need be, but that would require even more precision than other things. "I agree, we need to be ready, but what do you propose we do? Stage a sort of air raid drill every night?"

"Not every night. We just have to make sure we don't make mistakes. We have a copy of the death certificate, and the names of contacts, but can we get them fast?" Gretchen wasn't sure. "Then, let's practice right now. There is a knock." As he knocked on the counter, he and Oskar ran to grab papers, the former glancing at a watch. Albert ran to tell Carl and Heinrich that they were running a practice drill, and then ran to the cellar with them. The Jewish children and Heidi looked on with a sense of bemusement, unsure of what to make of the scene. The group ran down the steps. Albert studied his watch as he trudged up the stairs, the others following.

"What was all that?" Isaac wanted to know.

Gretchen felt the inquiry like a cannonball in the chest. They'd told the Rubin children they were being hunted by the Nazis, but never informed them of their parents' exact whereabouts. A little part of her kept refusing to believe they could be dead.

Still, as Albert complained about how that "took way too much time," she recognized that, sooner or later, she would have to tell these innocents just what kind of cruelty they were up against. She just didn't know how.

"We are preparing in case we must evacuate. You know how we do in an air raid drill?" Isaac nodded. "Well, if these bad people, these Nazis, come, we must leave, maybe in a hurry."

"But," Micah pointed out innocently, "if they catch us, we would be with our parents, right?"

Gretchen swallowed hard, unsure of how to react. She'd told her youngest not to tell the Jewish children of their parents' probable deaths. "I...do not know," she stammered, unsure of how to put it. Were they dead? Could they possibly have survived? Even the looks in her three oldest childrens' eyes harbored little hope. The youngest maintained only very fuzzy images about death and its finality. Gretchen hedged after what seemed like a very long time, saying, "they would keep you separated anyway, so that is no help. We must hide you until..."

The words hung as she hugged each and walked away. Until what? Until they were rescued? Until their parents somehow magically returned? Until the Nazis were overthrown...fat chance of that happening, she knew. She could not help but impersonate her husband upon what must have been the twentieth "until what," "I know nothing, noth-ing!"

Oskar joined her in her room after the youngest children were put to bed. "Mother, why could you not tell them?"

She shook her head. "I guess I did not want to break their little hearts," she said tearflly. "How would you have liked it, if someone told you your father and I would never come back?"

"It would be hard," Oskar agreed, hugging her. "It would probably be the truth, though, that they are gone." He thought again of his frustration over the innocence that the events of the last few weeks had shattered. "Too many people are telling lies. I cannot stand it!"

Gretchen hugged him, and wept, too, as he wept on her shoulder. Her oldest son no longer held that youthful innocence he once did. Her babies were growing up too fast.

Schultz made it to Sergeant of the Guard right around the time that a few changes had been made. He'd also made it home a few other times that year, on 24-hour passes or three-day leave.

**January, 1942**

The number of prisoners was not large, but there were a few new ones every couple months. There was also a new Kommandant that fall; Wilhelm Klink, and a new number, as with the war not ending as fast as had been promised, the Luftwaffe chose to build more camps and renumber them. Schultz was now at Stalag 13.

He came home for Christmas, and enjoyed a wonderful time with his family, eating Christmas dinner and opening presents. Now, he'd earned another 24-hour pass. He had much to tell about an unusual American prisoner. However, he would save that till after the children went to bed.

"Mother," Heidi wondered lowly, "we are disobeying orders by hiding Jews, right?"

The question stunned Gretchen as they worked in the kitchen, stuffing food into bags. She kept her composure, however. "Yes, and that is all right because the orders are evil, they go against God, just like when I read to you about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego."

"Why can't Father disobey his orders and stay home with us?"

Gretchen sighed, considering the complexity of life. She wished there were simple answers. Indeed, she wished she could preserve her daughter's faith that said mothers knew everything. "Lord," she prayed silently, "don't let her lose faith in You as she loses it in me." Yes, Gretchen thought, it sounds defeatist, but she will lose it in me, for I am human.

As least we are not hypocrites, she pondered, recalling a lesson Frederick had taught her. "Children can see hypocrisy very well," he'd explained, "we just try to crush that ability so we don't have to look at ourselves in the mirror and start living right." She was so glad they'd never seen such an attitude in herself and Hans.

Trying her best, she emphasized that "Our leaders want to sin against God by killing Jews, that is why it is okay to hide them. But, it is not a sin to serve in the military. God tells us to obey our leaders when the orders are not against God." She neglected to mention that consequences must be paid if disobedience is discovered, and that she could easily be killed, leaving the precious little girl next to her motherless. The concept nearly made her weep, and she hugged Heidi, holding her very tight. "I love you, dear," she said sincerely.

Oskar finished reading in the living room, and observed his father relaxing in his den, his eyes closed. Now is a perfect time, he considered, grabbing the sacks prepared by the family and strolling down to the basement.

Hans awakened from a short snooze and walked out to the kitchen. "Has Oskar taken the food to Mrs. Mueller?" He would have enjoyed going, but whenever he was home, Oskar had managed to leave when he himself wasn't ready. As his wife affirmed Oskar's departure, Hans forced himself to smile, his flabby torso unsatisfied. I am too used to LeBeau's cooking, he deliberated.

Walking into the living room, proud of his son for taking so much responsibility as the "man of the house," he noticed the book Oskar had been reading. He frowned, deeply disturbed. Examining the cover, Hans wondered what people ever saw in his leaders. If they'd really read "Mein Kampf," they would know how much hatred...what was this? After picking it up, he noticed that the cover was merely a jacket, with something underneath. That was an unusual way to package that book. Then, he turned past the first few pages, all blank.

Gretchen peeked in, her husband's joyful countenance telling her all she needed to know. As he gazed upon the words "Holy Bible," and leafed through the pages, Hans grinned immensely, ecstatic that his son wasn't falling for the hate his leaders spread; at least not yet. He hoped he wouldn't, though in Germany there were always such worries. Hans left that room to go play with his younger children, vowing to reveal nothing of the discovery. He knew the government would not like his son reading the Bible, and may believe he had something to do with it.

Oskar rapped meekly on the door twice, and Gretchen opened it, grinning. Oskar pondered whether these could be the "End Times" – he noted that on a map, Moscow was directly north of Jerusalem. Still, Frederick had told him the chances were probably slim that Hitler was the AntiChrist, though one never knew. His thoughts, however, were interrupted by his mother.

"Oskar," she said, "your father saw the Bible, and looked very happy." She slowly closed the basement door.

Oskar smiled. Perhaps there was still hope. "There are times I think we should tell him, we would be able to be with them so much more. And then..." He didn't know how to finish.

"It is hard, we have so little freedom. Just know you do not need to worry."

Oskar would try not to. However, he couldn't help but wonder.

He snuck down into the basement that night to be with the Rubins and to reflect. It had been one very long year. His world had turned upside-down so quickly; yes, one little thing was promising, but he couldn't' help but wonder how his father was affected by things. What was he hearing in the military? What did they make him listen to? True, he was around Allied soldiers, but would that be enough? Oskar forced himself to remain strong for their guests' sake, but he couldn't help but wonder, what exactly did his father think?

Had he been upstairs, he might have heard something that changed his mind about his father, that being news of a very strange prisoner. The man, named Hogan, had been there two weeks, and as Schultz said, things were "very strange" around him.

"The first few days he was there, he convinced me he was a Hollywood director," Schultz began, counting on one hand, "a baseball player for the Yankees named Joe DiMaggio, and the King of Siam. Now, I was not sure about the other two, but while I had heard that we were at war with the Americans, I was not aware that we were even at war with Siam. And, even if we were…"

"Hans, get to the point."

"Well, I believed him, anyway. I do not know what Colonel Hogan is up to; but sometimes, it already seems like it is him running that camp."

-----------------------------

It was early in the New Year when Robert Hogan entered Stalag 13. After many successful missions flying for the RAF, he'd been approved. Now, he could safely come as an American, and make some think he hadn't been as good – shot down this early – and, he could get to work.

After the usual interrogation and welcoming, he met the prisoners – almost all British, but with a few French. He began to interview them. He took the two he considered best for his idea, Peter Newkirk and Louis LeBeau, aside into his office one day.

"You're not Joe DiMaggio, are you?" Newkirk asked.

"I'm close. I hit on 56 straight women without a rejection once."

LeBeau scoffed. "Small potatoes to a Frenchman. We are far better than anyone at that."

"What, an' you think we English can't make love?"

"You can't even make food," LeBeau retorted.

"Good; you two can let off steam, and even if you fight it won't last. Right?" Hogan said, taking control and also ensuring that the two could remain on the same page.

They agreed. They'd been best friends for almost a year, and accepted each other's ribbing very well. Hogan was pleased at this, as it was part of his plan. He needed men who worked together well for what he was thinking, and sometimes, the whole was greater than the sum of its parts. There might have been a few in camp who would be a bit better at some things than these two, but he'd noticed they had a close friendship, despite the ornery comments at times. He grinned broadly as he explained.

"Good. Because what I've got in mind will require teamwork. You'll have to be willing to risk your lives for each other and for the cause, no matter what anyone's said. Now, I'm not ordering you to do this, but if you really want to hurt the enemy, I've got an idea." He reported that he'd checked for bugs, but moved in closer, anyway. "It's good there weren't any escapes the last 2 months since Klink came and it was renamed Stalag 13, because that's gonna help. Gentlemen, I submitted a proposal to my leaders, and everyone agrees. I put up a big smokescreen coming out with the 504th after a bunch of flights with the RAF. In reality, I'm here because my proposal was approved - a program to rescue downed airmen and get them through to England – right under the Germans' noses."

"Sacre bleu! That is incredible!" LeBeau proclaimed.

"That's impossible, mate. From right here?" Newkirk asked, his eyes widening.

Hogan beamed, putting his arms around the other two. "You're talking to a man who believed in Jules Verne and H.G. Wells so much as a boy, he thought for sure the headlines by now would read, 'Robert Hogan, first man to walk on the moon.' I've always dreamed big. My air force knew it. Yours found out last year, Newkirk." He walked a little, and said, "I never thought much about details, but once I got older I started. And, I thought enough about this to put together a proposal." He chuckled. "They thought I was nuts at first, but then they thought, 'What if?'" he finished, in a dreamy tone that seemed to encompass his entire outlook.

"Begging the colonel's pardon, but I still think you're 'round the bend," Newkirk said.

"That's okay. Let's get it all out of our system right away. Impossible. Can't be done. It'll never work. Got any others?" he spoke rapidly.

"It's suicide, Sir."

Hogan pointed at him. "Good one, Newkirk. Okay, any other negative comments? If not, you either say you don't want to be a part of what could be the greatest undercover operation in history – and you can opt out at any time - or I tell you how we're gonna do it."

Newkirk and LeBeau both gave in, the Englishman more slowly. They recognized the colonel's leadership style, a style that said it was going to get done, that somehow he'd always find a way.

"Great. We'll need a tunnel system, and lots of construction materials; it's almost a six-month project to set up. I understand they're still building a couple new Luftstalags…we'll get some of the materials shipped here. LeBeau, the guy who brings in the dogs; think you can sneak out in the truck and get a message to the Underground?" He could try. "Okay, good. We'll need some men dropped who are really good at digging, supports, things like that. Then, ask them to send a plane that can take a dive, long enough for good radio men… wait." A light bulb seemed to go on above his head, and he snapped his fingers. It was time to present his other idea, now that he was on the ground. "Let's rub the Germans' faces in it a bit about this 'master race.'"

"Even more? How, mon colonel?" LeBeau wondered, already fascinated. Always somewhat impulsive, and anxious to defeat the Germans, he was ready to go all the way.

"Our military is segregated, but last year it was given permission to start up a group called the Tuskegee Airmen. Tell them we want some of them. The Germans will house them with us if they get captured near here, even though they're a different race." A plan which really frustrated James Kinchloe and others a couple weeks later, when told their mission was to report to a man stationed in a prison camp, till he met Hogan and learned how civil Hogan was making everything; just being called "Kinch" by the others was such a step up from usual for him.

"Right," Newkirk said sarcastically, "just like you plan to get Klink to keep you here with us enlisted men by sayin' you've got some sort of medical training."

"I convinced him I was Joe DiMaggio for a while; he even wanted my autograph. I'll admit he wasn't too sure about the King of Siam bit…" He thought of something else, folding his arms. "For the sabotage bit, we'll have to take it as it comes, a good demolitions man…we'll blow up that bridge when we come to it, though. Oh, by the way, you guys are okay with Negro flyers in the group, right?'

"I'd take a bleedin' Martian if it meant defeatin' them ruddy Krauts." LeBeau agreed with his friend, though Newkirk was still a bit stunned and cynical; to him, this proposal was as likely as men from Mars. He would warm to it as it came together, though.

"Good, Klink at least seems ambivalent about them, and I know Schultz and that young corporal… Langenscheidt?" It was. "They said they'd be okay with prisoners of another race when I posed the question hypothetically. Now, we might have a problem with some men if I make one my second in command, but we can deal with that then. Tell London we need the Tuskegee Airmen and the diggers first," he instructed LeBeau.

"Excuse me, Sir, I know Louis here knows some German from when he was a chef at an exclusive Paris restaurant, but he don't know enough to get very far. An', I hardly know any. When I first came he had to translate for me.'

"We can learn German in six months. Come on, we practice it whenever we can, act like the defeated prisoners they want us to think we are, and say we're learning because we figure everyone will speak it someday," Hogan explained. "I took it in school, and studied it for months before I came here. You'll catch on."

LeBeau was awed by Hogan's amazing plan. "Mon colonel," he said, already feeling a great sense of devotion, "how long did all of this take you?"

"Well, the rescuing airmen, the tunnels, all that was from when I was a boy, playing war; the other kids thought I was nuts with the ideas I'd invent. Now, the sabotage part, which we'll get to a little later, that was more recent, and not really part of my proposal."

LeBeau gasped. "There's more?"

Hogan nodded. "My proposal simply outlined what I wanted to do and how I would accomplish it, how I would get the manpower, how long it would take to set up, and a week by week calendar of planning so they would know just what could be done and when. I sent it to the Pentagon in 1940, in fact. Now, once we get set up there are other things that can be done along with that; that's where the sabotage part comes in. I'll fill you in later; right now I've got to go talk to Klink about letting me stay. Then we've gotta get Schultz to ignore stuff; we'll work him up to big things slowly so we can be done by the time we open for business." He donned his hat and left.

His closest English friend merely shook his head as the Frenchman whistled. "All that from playing games as a wee lad?"

"I know. Incredible, isn't it?" he spoke with great admiration.

"Louis…there's a big part of me that's sure the colonel's 'round the bend." At the same time, Newkirk thought of the dreams he used to dream when he was little. Of the frustration of war, and of being stuck there for so long. And, he was forced to admit, in a lower voice, "An' yet, when I think of how long I've been here, an' how much damage the ruddy Krauts are doin' to me home…there's this piece o' me that just wants it to be true. That just wants to think that we can do it. An', by jove, I wanna be part of that."

"Me too, my friend. Me, too," LeBeau said wistfully, thinking of his beloved France.

--------------------------------------------------

While Klink always spoke of his perfect record, Hogan once said before he (Hogan) came, there were so many escapes, they had to put a revolving door on the gate. Hogan's comment in another about it being the anniversary of Klink taking command may also mean someone else had been there before. Trying to balance the two, it was felt best, when some friends and I discussed it, to go this route, and say it was renumbered.

- Hitler promised a quick end to the war. Germany wasn't totally on a wartime footing till January of 1941! Therefore, a decision to build more LuftStalags only once it became apparent they weren't going to win quickly is in keeping with the German military in World War Two.

- Something he may feel the fellow who knows him inside and out is a bit too close to

- The "approved part of the mission" according to an early episode, Hogan could have submitted the plan and had it approved, rather than London ordering it.


	4. Heroes Helping Heroes

**Chapter Four** - **July, 1942 – Heroes Helping Heroes**

The knock came at the door unexpectedly. However, it was not the harsh knock and loud footsteps of the Gestapo, but rather a soft, gentle rap to the tune of Beethoven's Ninth.

"You called for an electrician?" Sergeant James Kinchloe asked. An American POW at Stalag 13, complete with fake beard, he was somehow in Heidelberg in an electrician's outfit.

Gretchen didn't know this was a prisoner; she only knew he was with one of Ada's contacts - . She didn't know how much facial hair was real. There weren't many blacks in Germany, but there were a few. "Yes," she said, adding the coded, "One of the children flushed something down the toilet." When Kinch gave the required code back, she let him in.

"I understand you need something in the way of an electrical connection for a tunnel."

"Yes, come this way." She explained as she led him to the basement. "I don't know how much our contact, Esther, has told you, but we have three guests and a makeshift tunnel, and decided that it would be all right, finally to put a light in, if nobody can see it, for rare occasions." She also wondered if she could talk to him about something else, as the children were playing.

"I've got time. My boss doesn't need me till this evening." In reality, he was in solitary for attempted escape, a ploy used one other time by Hogan and two others when they'd needed to be gone a day. He would be let out later that evening. The radio man in Hogan's sabotage and rescue operation, Kinch was much better with operating the radio to London and other electrical things, but if need be, another sergeant, Richard Baker, could take his place. "Though I don't think he'd be too pleased; I hear you call him 'Yankee' down here."

Gretchen conceded that, "With the Americans in the war, I suppose that is a gamble."

"No, I mean he's from Connecticut. That's Red Sox country." She looked lost. "Sorry, two rival baseball teams. The Yankees are the Sox' biggest rivals."

"Well, it would not make sense to call him a sock. What about your team?"

"He'd really hate to be called that." Kitch's home town team, the Tigers, shared their name with a top agent they'd met recently - who happened to be female. "Say, is your husband Hans?" It was; did he know him? "Yeah, we've met." Kinch met the Rubins, then inspected the tunnel.

"Is something wrong?" Gretchen asked, hearing him sigh.

He pulled himself back out. "I don't want to be too critical. I know you're not professionals, and you did pretty well for what you had to work with. But, you're lucky the middle section of that tunnel hasn't totally collapsed yet." She looked very disappointed. "Hey, don't worry. We can fix it. We won't even charge extra for parts and labor."

"Danke. Hans has told me quite a bit about Yankee's, or Red Sock's…"

Kinch thought of the Athletics. "How about Athletic, or just A. They're a neutral team; they can't seem to beat anybody nowadays."

"Very well, Hans has told me much about Athletic's activities."

Kinch motioned her up to the kitchen. "How much do you know?" He wanted to get a feel for what Schultz had told her –showing if there was a leak - what was known down here, and so on.

Gretchen only suspected they operated out of a POW camp, because she had met Colonel Hogan, and Schultz had said something about him having a girlfriend. So, when Schultz mentioned that there were "strange goings on" at the camp, she wondered.

Kinch maintain firmly that, "I think you know it's gonna be best for all of us if you keep even guesses under your hat!" She told him not to worry – she always kept everything well hidden. Her children knew nothing even of that, only that Hans had some very wild prisoners at times. He relaxed and said, "Good. Of course, it's a crazy guess. I mean, it could never be done, right?"

She agreed, chuckling a little, and Kinch was more satisfied yet. However, she told him that she was still quite upset at Colonel Hogan for sending something through Schultz once, even if Hogan wasn't the agent whom Ada had contacted.

"Oh, yeah; he's really sorry about that." Hogan sent radio parts through Schultz to another r agent in Heidelberg, when he was coming home on furlough in June.

"Do not worry, Esther explained the situation, and Hans got home for a week anyway. I was probably upset just because, well, as you can see I have a mission myself."

"Yeah, well, Klink started to ride him pretty hard for a few days, but Colonel Hogan talked him into softening up again." Kinch knew that Schultz might tell her this anyway, and if he did, by referring to Hogan differently than to "Athletic," that would make her think more that the strange prisoner Colonel Hogan was different from the contact "Athletic." "I'm gonna radio for some supplies, and see if I can't get you some help with that tunnel. Local Underground's picking me up in a truck. Plus, my boss'll have to figure out a reason you're getting something installed. The gardening around your house and the neighbor's was a nice touch for the dirt, though."

"Danke. My cubs even discussed a trap door for in a bedroom closet; they think it would be safest to have another route to the basement." They discussed more things, including how they'd been hiding and plans for escapes. "About my oldest…he is having trouble trusting his father. Tell me…has Hans seen anything he could have reported for certain and didn't?"

Kinch nodded and grinned. "I can promise you that."

Albert entered with Heidi. "She had to use the bathroom." The youngest often insisted on staying witht heir brothers, even if they played soccer with older kids, since it was summer.

Gretchen asked Albert to fetch Oskar. Once Heidi left, and it was just the oldest two boys, Kinch, and Gretchen, she introduced him as an electrician, Wolfgang Hanover. Then, they went into the basement. "Herr Hanover has something he'd like to tell you."

Kinch told them about their dad. "He's ignored a lot; and hasn't told a soul. I'm sure he's safe."

"So, you are in the Underground?" He nodded. "What it is like?"

"I believe Albert means how often do you run drills?" Oskar teased.

"I just want us to always be prepared for anything."

"Mother says you sometimes become a drill sergeant," Oskar responded.

Gretchen tried to calm them, but Kinch said, "Don't worry about it; they just need to let off a little steam. My boss knows we need it, too."

"Father says he does that with the prisoners, too. Like the cockroach," Oskar joked.

Kinch stopped himself from stating that he knew LeBeau. However, he was curious. "I've heard of him; I did some electrical work at Stalag 13. I thought it was supposed to be an insult." In reality, Kinch could tell it wasn't meant that way, and was curious.

"It is not," Oskar said gleefully, anxious to tell the story. Despite Albert's protests, Oskar continued. "You see, Father knew the man before the war; he was a chef at a restaurant Father would go to when in Paris with his large company. Well, one night, we were there; I was six, my brother here was four, and Mother and Father left the younger one at home."

"Mother, does he have to tell this story?" Albert asked.

"I asked if there were any bugs in the kitchen; I really liked bugs then. I named a few, and got to cockroaches. Mother scolded me that it was not nice to mention cockroaches in a restaurant. I tried to get out of it by arguing that it did not mean there were bugs in the kitchen; perhaps the owner or chef was named that," Oskar explained. Albert looked ready to die of embarrassment as his brother finished. "So then this Frenchman comes out, and my brother asks, for the whole world to hear, 'Are you Mr. Cockroach?!' And, of course, knowing German Herr LeBeau laughed, and the nickname stuck. And, there were enough German speakers in there that night that all the French ones were being told the joke very quickly."

Albert knew how gross bugs in a restaurant would be; especially because he'd seen some gross things in food once with the war. "I cannot imagine how anyone could do something more embarrassing! I will always be the one of us with the most embarrassing story!"

"I've seen your type on both sides back home. You try to be Mr. Tough Guy to deal with things, huh?" Albert said nothing.

Gretchen signaled for Oskar to go upstairs. He did. "I had to scold this one quite sharply once recently. Didn't I?" she said lovingly, yet with a hint of a reminder of how stern she'd been.

Kinch put a hand on his shoulder. "I know how it is to wonder what's gonna happen. Sure, we fine tune everything, but if we do too much then we get all worn out and can't be at peak readiness when the real trouble comes. My boss knows how to get us to listen, and how to make sure everything goes like clockwork, but he knows how to let us have fun, too. He knows what we can handle. And, he accepts when someone's slower, like your siblings compared to you." Or, he told himself, like Carter compared to the others at times. Hogan could get upset with the very boyish sergeant, but still used him without ever staying really upset on him.

"He is right. Remember how the youngest two have made it a game to watch the window?" Gretchen said, "They look for different colors, birds, anything they can. And, we have made it fun for them, and reward each time one does it, so if they do have to watch the window they will be alert and react very quickly, right?"

Albert supposed so. Kinch decided to make him a deal. "Tell you what. Obey your mother when it comes to this stuff, and I won't tell the others the Cockroach story."

"It is a deal."

Kinch turned to go upstairs, when Albert told him to wait. He'd never thought to ask Frederick or Ada – he was always trying to work out details in his mind. It helped him to avoid the bigger worries. However, he guessed that this man had been through some rough things, too.

"Sir?" Kinch turned toward him. "Do you ever get scared?"

"Yeah, lots of times. I've felt scared, angry, hurt, frustrated sometimes. It's okay to feel that way." He spoke not only of the war, but of growing up in a segregated nation. And, relatives down South had it worse. He didn't like being cooped up in the radio room so much since he didn't look like a German soldier, and he didn't think he'd go on many missions, though he would on a few. So, he was glad to be able to pass on a little advice for one, at least. "I have faith it's gonna work out. My faith gets me through tough times. Yeah, I struggled growing up at times. But, my family really helped me. And, you've got a mother who cares a lot about you. You gotta tell her when you're feeling that way, so she can help, okay?"

Albert grinned broadly, glad to know even an adult could get scared. He realized he didn't have to have quite as hard a shell. He thrust out his hand and said, "Okay!"

Kinch couldn't help but blink back a tear as he took Albert's hand – when had a white person ever done that to him back in the States? It hadn't been often. Yet, here was a child, in the heart of Germany, not only shaking his hand, but offering it first. To explain his look, he simply said, "Kid's got quite a grip."

--------------------

Once Kinch returned and was let out of the cooler, he gave a status report down in the tunnel. "Now I know why the contact asked specifically for us. You'll never guess who's hiding someone?" Who? "Well, she's related to someone we know."

"Oh, boy, 20 questions. I'm good at this game," Andrew Carter said. The boyish sergeant asked, "Is she German?"

"Andrew, she's in Heidelberg, of course she's German!" Englishman Peter Newkirk proclaimed.

"Well, we're not, and we're in Germany," Carter retorted. Newkirk rolled his eyes.

"Let me see," Hogan said, his face showing only a little emotion as a thought cane to him. "Will I feel like kicking myself for not figuring it out before you left?"

"I know that look," Carter said, pointing at Hogan's face. "He knows it now."

LeBeau nodded excitedly. "Oui, I knew he could figure it out. Tell us."

"Is it Mrs. Schultz?" Kinch nodded. "Does he know?" Kinch explained to Hogan how she seemed to want to tell him, but the kids were scared. "Typical. Even with a family that's willing to do something to help, those birdbrains try to drive them apart with their scare tactics."

"Who's she hiding?"

Kinch told Carter he couldn't tell. "They swore me to secrecy. Just three children is all I'm allowed to tell you." He told them the operation, and their needs.

Hogan was pleased at how they did. "Good; they're keeping it low, not letting much get out."

"And, making sure nothing bad happens." Hogan could see Kinch trying to figure out whether to repeat this or not, so he asked him to continue. "Well, to put it simply, Sir, she was upset that she could have been caught with the parts we sent with Schultz, because of her mission."

"How upset?"

"Well, Colonel…" He shuffled his feet. "She said if you ever threaten her mission again, she'll come up here and teach you a lesson you'll never forget."

"You better listen," Carter said. "I don't think the Geneva Convention covers civilians spanking enemy prisoners." Newkirk shook his head and pulled Carter's cap down over his eyes.

Hogan made a mental note to keep Gretchen outside of their missions. "I'm not sure about a light with a timer like someone suggested; it's actually like some older ladies to not have any lights on. But, we'll send someone down there when we can get to it. And, tell them they can start on the trap door they want in the closet before then; it should be fairly simple.

--------------------

.**September, 1942**

. Peter Newkirk and several other men had completed the required construction. He'd been gone several days. Ostensibly, he was in the infirmary with an illness that was common to some prison camps and which they used for Kinch when he would be loaned to other Underground units in the Hammelburg area to help with radio or other electrical work. In reality, Newkirk was in Heidelberg. Now that school was back in session, it was deemed easier for him and the other Underground agents to work on the tunnel, though it took a little while longer, till Saturday.

"There you are, Ma'am," Newkirk said in German. "Happy Hammelburg Construction's bill of completion of the government-mandated super-effective, heavy duty sewer line." He handed her two pieces of paper. "Along with the one for the government-mandated removal of the super-effective, heavy duty sewer line because Berlin only found out later that it was not super, not effective, and not heavy-duty."

"Danke," Gretchen said as the Schultz children milled about the living room.

Newkirk grinned broadly. He couldn't believe that just eight months ago, he'd thought he'd have to sit out the war in a miserable prison. And now, here he was carrying out high-level, dangerous assignments, and having fun doing it. He still thought Colonel Hogan was a little carzy with some of his schemes, but they worked. And, he could see the same attitude, when he and the others were working there the last few days, in the Schultz's children.

Suddenly, he heard Schultz's car pull up. He jerked his head around for a moment and frowned. "Oh, that's bloody charming. It's the 12th, and Carter said he checked and Schultz was going to try to get a 24-hour pass for the 21st," he muttered under his breath. He wanted to do some double checking, but instead, he found himself ducking into Mrs. Mueller's for the time being. Her house was unoccupied, so why not?

Schultz was puzzled, but his demeanor changed quickly as the birthday girl ran up to him. "Happy birthday, liebchen," he said, picking her up and twirling her around. "I cannot believe you are five years old!"

"Why? I was four yesterday?"

"You jolly joker. Your older brothers do not mind, but I knew it was important for me to show up once during the war on your birthday, as I did for Heinrich's."

Heidi frowned at the thought. "I do not like war. It is scary, and there are bullies."

"You mean the Gestapo?" She nodded. "Ja, they are bully boys, all right. But, you know we never, ever tell anyone that, right, liebchen?" She nodded and smiled, and he kissed her on the cheek. "Good girl." Heidi knew he would be even prouder if he knew she had not said another reason she hated war – there were people living in their basement, and she felt sad for them and couldn't tell anyone they were there.

As the family talked for a while, Oskar and Heinrich took the food they'd prepared in bags, and decided now was a good time to go to Mrs. Mueller's. With the tunnel complete, and fortified, they would exit out the back door of Mrs. Mueller's, and go through it, or – usually – go through their own back door. They used the reserve plan since Schultz was there.

Newkirk found himself wondering what special mission had occurred back at Stalag 13 while he was away for several days acquiring lumber – said by the paperwork to be for a "special top secret project" – and working here. He'd used a German military uniform for that, and would use it again when he got back to the car he'd hidden by the side of a road a few miles away.

For now, he observed the two Schultz children coming after having received a "clear" signal from Carl. The tall, handsome eldest son handed Heinrich a small package.

The two walked in the door. The six-year-old felt little trepidation, as he focused on the Lord. His favorite Biblical character was David, the young giant-slayer. Even if it was just little things, he was anxious to let the Lord use him to slay some giants. In a faked old, crackling voice, Heinrich uttered "so nice of you to visit like this, Oskar." Oskar was glad Heinrich no longer giggled during his impersonations.

"What are friends for," came the tall one. He deliberately held an empty food container outside the package, in case any neighbors noticed. How long will we be able to keep them thinking she's alive, Oskar wondered. "I hope you enjoyed the food," came the comment.

"Yes, I do not like the other neighbors, you are the only ones I will let in." They'd had him say something like this at other times when it appeared someone was within hearing range. "You cook better than my mother," Heinrich responded in the cackling voice.

Newkirk grinned proudly from his hiding place. Listening to these boys did his heart proud.

He coughed, and resumed his real voice as he asked "how did you..." before Oskar clapped his mouth shut. "Mmmpf." He then realized he was going to ask how they learned to cook so well in his own voice, not Mrs. Mueller's.

Oskar glared, continuing loudly, as they weren't sure who would be watching. "Let us go, we do not want to keep Mrs. Mueller too long." As Heinrich hammed it up, entering the door again and asking why older people took naps, his companion pulled him outside. "We do not need a monologue," came the gentle chiding.

"Sorry," whispered the younger one back, "I got carried away." They walked back to their residence, and entered through the front. Schultz opened the door for them. Newkirk, meanwhile, pondered that there was probably a little of each of Hogan's men in all of the Schultz children. It would take that kind of strength to pull this off, just like the much more mature Colonel Hogan was using all his strength to pull off their assignments. Newkirk decided to wait a little while, till after lunch, to sneak in and check their work. By then, he figured Schultz would be sleeping.

"I was hoping to visit the widow Mueller with you...how did you get past me?" Schultz inquired. Why am I asking, he wondered, some prisoners do the same thing all the time?

"I do not know; let us eat," Oskar remarked, racing and beating Heinrich to the table.

"That boy eats like a pig," the guard remarked as he glanced at Oskar, seated on his left. He knew Gretchen purchased immense amounts of food, but this, he considered, was ridiculous. Not two minutes after he'd sat down, an entire course had been disposed of by Oskar. The others didn't seem far behind as the lad went for seconds, returning to scarf food down. Hans' eyes bulged as he stared at the place where the plate had been, thus allowing his other children to perform the task Oskar had - stuffing food from their plates into bags. Schultz noticed he wasn't eating quite as fast, but he still seemed intent on eating even the dish.

"He is a growing boy," the guard's wife said matter-of-factly, noticing the shocked look.

Schultz glanced away and then back. No, this time the food didn't just vanish, the guard reassured himself. Still, Oskar ate fast. "Yes, and soon he will grow through the roof." The family laughed. Heinrich and Heidi giggled at the thought of Oskar's head crashing through their ceiling. The older children considered how wonderful family dinners would be with the Rubin kids there. Hopefully, someday, Oskar considered, silently praying.

The fat sergeant walked over to the large pot, hoping to grab seconds. "Is anyone eating this?" he inquired, pointing to a package which he presumed contained some of the casserole. Its contents would quickly be added to the bags under the table when dinner was over.

"That is for if anyone wants a snack in a couple minutes," his wife teased him lovingly. The fellow appreciated the humor his wife applied, his fat belly bouncing as he laughed. "Seriously, it is for Mrs. Mueller, if we take some later for supper."

Schultz sensed that his wife had done a very good job of keeping them in one piece during the war. Perhaps, he pondered as he noticed his eldest silently praying, that faith has something to do with it. Hoping he would not be refused as he had when he'd sought to be part of their activities, he spoke to his son. "Let us read that Bible together after this."

Oskar prayerfully gained courage as he pondered venturing down to visit Micah, Isaac, and Moses. He wished they could spend more time down there, but with his dad home he didn't want to risk it. It's a good thing it's so easy to sneak past him, Oskar considered. "Could we do it after a bit...oops," he remarked, spilling a glass of water. "Clumsy me." He bent down to clean it up, shielding their father's view as Heinrich and Heidi collected the bags of food. Albert further drew Hans' attention by speaking to him from another room.

Hans Schultz wished to explore his son's faith, given his country's condition. Oskar, meanwhile, liked to deliver food, just as their mother preferred handling all the duties, as their leader, but he figured one of the others could just as easily go. They were all very well trained, after all. He created a circle with his lips as if to make an "oo" sound and looked at Albert, who showed he caught the sign by scratching his right ear. Oskar told his father that "on second thought, we can do that now." He went into the living room to grab one of the Bibles with the fake cover. Gretchen, as part of "level two," which they employed with not only Schultz there, but Newkirk still needing to come back, casually watched the window.

Schultz pondered the hours he spent developing new toys as he watched his children. His precious little ones had valuable parts of their lives stripped by war. He thought of Colonel Hogan and his men, too. He'd thought of reporting them, at times. However, he did not wish to take sides, especially knowing he wasn't receiving all the facts. He couldn't dream of being a Nazi. No wonder he'd been so happy to realize Oskar had really been reading the Bible.

Hans considered the boy's at times abrupt treatment of him. Why was he being handled like this? Was it his being sergeant of the guard? Was Oskar so against the military that he would turn on his own father? Or, did he somehow know that his father had been derelict in his duties at camp, thus opening him up to the scorn of a professed young Nazi?

Albert took the last step into the basement confidently, and walked past the large crate, sitting in the open as part of their "Level Two" status. Pushing aside boxes, he entered the small alcove which formed the Rubins' living quarters. He checked that all items were securely stashed, as the family remained on alert during the entire time Hans or another family member stayed there. "Joseph," he uttered lowly, "it is me. Have you had any dreams?"

Micah smiled. The food, still lukewarm, provided a welcome reminder that he was human. He contemplated Oskar, the one who walked so closely with the Lord, and realized that Oskar was his age when he and his family started caring for them. Albert provided many rehearsals, but to him and his brothers, Oskar was their true leader, one who exemplified Christ even more than Mrs. Schultz, though she did a very good job.

"Is Mr. Schultz still up there," Micah wondered. Isaac and Moses ravenously dug into their food with the tin utensils and plates, the former considering his favorite Bible story, that of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego. The glow from an oil lamp illuminated things. He was.

Moses looked tenderly at the light. "Is this what camp fires are like?" he inquired. Oskar had told them numerous stories of camping out in the woods.

"Sort of, except you hear animals like crickets." Noticing the blank stare, Albert determined that they would camp out at some point soon after they found freedom. There, he thought, I have pondered things besides more practicing. Mother and Oskar will be proud. "Crickets are bugs that make a chirping type of noise," he remarked, doing his best to imitate one.

While Albert talked and played games with the Rubins, having matured as he started to have more fun and be less strict, Oskar found himself considering his father's love as he sat back at the table. Perhaps Mother is right, he considered, recalling the Confessing Church, as they talked more about it in private. He knew his siblings were trusting Christ. But, he really wanted to make sure his father had, before they did anything else.

And yet, part of him still worried. Worried about what his father was forced to hear, concerned about how his attitudes might have been shaped by that need to follow orders.

"I was hoping to spend some time alone with you," Hans told the boy. "You are almost a grown man now; you are already thirteen!" Far better than when I was a teen, Schultz considered. They looked at each other for several moments. Neither could think of anything to say, the patriarch still unsure where his son stood on things, the son only slightly less wary of his father.

Finally, recalling that his dad at least knew he was a Christian, Oskar posed this question. "Father, may I ask you a spiritual question?" He could. "If something were to happen, do you know if you would go to Heaven?"

What a silly question, he thought. "We are going to make it out of this war in one piece," he began, suddenly feeling that odd sensation he got when Colonel Hogan would trick him. What kind of question was this, really? "We are going to make it, aren't we?" he asked, a little concerned. Suddenly, the fears of being discovered - even betrayed - flew back to him.

Oskar wished he could reassure his father. In that second, the tense voice and slightly disturbed look told Oskar his dad might be just as apprehensive as he.

"I do not know, I only know I pray long and hard for great courage, and to make it safely to freedom," Oskar remarked. Of course, that last referred to their illicit hiding of Jews, but he knew his father could interpret it as being freed from conflict. "I can pray because I have a personal relationship with God. It is so much better than following our leaders; they are not as you have taught us to be. They are not nice." Oskar made this remark not only as a prelude to his discussion, but also as one final test to ensure his father's genuine dislike for things Nazi.

Hans discerned extreme faith in the child, the kind he didn't think would come until the boy was his age, and he himself was a very old man. Schultz considered that he, too, was being felt out, to determine how much he could be trusted. Perhaps he'd been away too long.

The guard nodded almost unnoticeably, hiding slightly his disdain for their wicked ways, still a little wary. He affirmed his eldest's comments with a "true," considering that he could trust Oskar not to report any purposeful ignoring of prisoners. "They are not nice. Oskar, just because I am in the military does not make me a bad person. I do not even consider myself a soldier." Is he still thinking of his poor friends, Schultz wondered. He could never have condoned that. He concluded that, while he'd always been a neutral, perhaps as much as anything, thinking about thwhat could be happening to the Jews, after the terrors of the "Night of the Broken Glass" before the war, convinced him to want to know nothing of the Allied prisoners' activities.

"I know, Father. I am just worried. How would you answer God, if He were to ask why he should let you into Heaven?"

"I would say that I trusted Him as my Savior years ago." Sensing Oskar's broad grin, Schutlz said, "I had been meaning to talk about it with you, in fact." He shook his head. "When it comes to war, I do not like to take sides. But, it is very hard sometimes, when all we hear is hatred. Our leaders have told us lies." He wouldn't say what he thought those lies were, but he did say, "I have been worried you were taken in by them."

Oskar lowered his head in shame. "I worried the same thing about you, Father. I am sorry."

"It is all right." He put an arm around him, and they hugged. They spoke for a few more minutes about how things were going with the war, about their feelings toward their leaders, and so on. I am glad we had this chance to talk," he said at the end.

Once they were done, Schultz decided to take a walk. Carl was playing while watching the window. Suddenly, he noticed Schultz walking toward Mrs. Mueller's. He jumped up and raced out the front door. "Father, you should not go in there. She is probably taking a nap." Newkirk, meanwhile, had slipped out the back door and down into the tunnel.

The guard knocked, but received no answer. He saw no movement, either. "Maybe you are right." Schultz walked with Carl around the neighborhood for a few moments, talking about things – Carl had gotten in no fights since early last year, which he was very proud of. He was also doing well in school. Finally, Schultz and Carl came back in.

Heinrich announced that he was in, but Newkirk got turned around in the still slightly unfamiliar house, and came out of the childrens' bedroom and ran right into Schultz.


	5. Schultz Knows Nothing About Covert Work

**Chapter Five – Schultz Knows Noth-ing About Covert Work**

"Oh, hello, Newkirk…" Schultz's eyes grew wide. "Newkirk!"

"Hi, Schultz; lovely day, isn't it?" the Englishman said.

"What are you doing here?!" Schultz asked with incredulity.

"Well, as a matter of fact, Carl was just telling me he's really sorry they haven't had time to put in the trap door; an' I'm a lot sorrier than he is."

"Children, we are on Level 3 right now; I want you all down in the basement," Gretchen ordered; she could tell Schultz was upset, and that this man should not have been caught. "I need to talk to your father." Newkirk started to leave with them, but she grabbed him and pulled him by the ear. "You, stay up here!"

Schultz was fuming at him once they were gone. "One, you are a prisoner. Two, you are supposed to be sick. Three, if anyone is going to put a…" He began to think about what Newkirk said. "…a trap door…in my house…" His eyes grew wide. "Why would you put in a trap door? Mmm, do not tell me; just keep my family out of your monkey business."

"He is a prisoner?" Gretchen rubbed her chin. "At a prison camp?"

Newkirk laughed. "We're not prisoners. We're with the Happy Hammelburg Construction firm." He handed Schultz a business card.

"See, he is with a construction firm, like they told the children and I. He was in a local jail and out on work detail when you last saw him, Hans." When Schultz to correct her she jabbed him with her elbow. "Right now, I just want to know, are we in any danger?"

Newkirk felt the stony glare. "Why, of course not, love. Nobody knows I'm down here."

"All right. But, I am warning you, do not take any unnecessary chances! And, I want to know that if he is implicated in your so-called 'monkey business' that we are gotten out of Germany. Is that clear?" Newkirk agreed, and nearly tripped over his own feet leaving, the look on her face reminded him too much of his mother's as she tried to keep him out of trouble as a kid.

Schultz and his wife went into the basement, and after a moment of trying to figure out why there were eight children, he recognized the older two children as the playmates of his children, playmates he feared had long since perished. "Oh, I have never been so proud of you in my whole life as I am of you right now," came the weeping declaration.

The children drifted upstairs as Hans spoke to his newest children, telling them he loved them and promising not to tell anyone. He wished he could tell those Allied prisoners at his camp, but even this was verboten; after all, one of them could always slip and say something. Gretchen had told him that they'd hidden who the children were from Newkirk, and from the other man who had been there. She felt a great deal of relief, as she was finally relying more on the Lord and less on hiding behind some facade. She apologized profusely for not telling him sooner.

Though Schultz knew now, there were still other duties to perform in front of the neighbors each day, namely getting food for and taking food to Mrs. Mueller, to explain the extra food.

The sun took, to Oskar, forever and a day to set. The boy decided there was no time to lose, however. Besides, their ruse had many neighbors assuming Mrs. Mueller still lived. Their mother was right; if she'd suffered a stroke her voice might have changed into something like the one Heinrich used. Oskar traveled alone this time, though, grateful that his father now knew, and that his faith had restored in him. He stuck to the same routine, imagining himself harming the war effort, despising all the latest propaganda.

He –or, at rare times, someone else - walked to the widow's about the same time each night. Sometimes he entered her house, especially if people were outside.

He paused with the parcels in his hand, observing various pieces of furniture and other items which would get mentioned in letters he or Gretchen wrote for Mrs. Mueller to distant relatives - or were they just friends? - from Berlin. Every few months, since she "suffered a concussion in the air raid which has dimmed my memory somewhat," they did so, mentioning at times a "damaged right arm that has never healed properly, and which has led to my neighbors writing for me." He considered that this, too, could explain their visits quite well.

He smiled as he noted various knick-knacks, and recalled bits of a story Mrs. Mueller had told about one medallion from World War One. Yes, he thought, an excellent piece to mention in a letter; since he or, more often, his mother always spoke of what they remembered or saw. Everything was going incredibly well with this, the tunnels - the emergency one and the one under the rain barrel, on the other side of the house from Mrs. Mueller's - and the ruses. He almost shouted thankfully, but restrained himself.

He glanced out the kitchen window, feigning enjoyment of natural splendor as he moved his lips, mimicking speech. "I might savor the beauty if we were free," came the thoughtful prayer. "I am thankful for it, Lord, but it is our lives we are placing in Your hands. Who has time to smell a rose?" Somebody noticed him in the window, but they took no interest, so he knew they were not Gestapo. Still, he pretended to open the bag for someone out of view until the neighbor passed.

Oskar locked the front door of the overly musty house and snuck out the back, locking it, too. He slunk over to his own yard, tipped the barrel, and descended as Carl watched out a back window.

"He is in," Carl said, a message Heidi relayed to the others. The notice was unneeded, but it provided a chance to teach Heinrich and Heidi how to execute escapes more redily. They knew someday they might need to rely on them to perform flawlessly.

Micah, Isaac, and Moses came up for short periods at irregular times when it was dark and drapes were closed. Otherwise, they needed to stay down and be entertained by Hans' toys. As always, they felt eager to see one of their protectors. As he delivered the food, they sat by an oil lamp and talked. Oskar pondered some new stories - perhaps about what peace is like, or playing joyfully outside, as the Schultz children and their friends still did. At times he or the others would tell of the good times with their parents, though he disliked these, as they made all of them - especially his mother - tearful.

Moses' memories of his parents had faded as time passed, and he thought of Mrs. Schultz more as his mother than Micah and Isaac did; all three called her "Mom" on occasion. Oskar was mature enough to take care of them, while being young enough to play and to not remind them of their late father. Being reminded of the passing of either parent still upset the children.

Moses laid his head on Oskar's lap as the lad sat Indian-style. "Tell me about God," Moses requested, while Oskar rubbed the boy's back.

Wow, Oskar thought, there is so much to that. Moses smiled broadly yet tiredly; he'd heard Micah and Isaac talking about the Lord between games.

"Well, God loves us, and He's protecting you," Oskar began, reminding himself to always comfort them and ease their fears. He'd matured a lot in the last eighteen months. "He knows everything, He can do anything, and He is all places at all times. You know, we all do bad things, but God became a person to die for us; His name was Jesus."

He proceeded to tell them of an occasion in the Old Testament where Jesus appeared.

"Seeing you often reminds me of this," Oskar began. "Do you remember Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego?" The older ones recalled these three from the family devotionals. Oskar admitted that "the three of you remind me of them, and if it were not so obvious we would use that as code names for you. There was this evil king who ordered them to be thrown into a very hot furnace because they followed God and would not worship the leaders. It is so much like today, when we are taught to follow leaders without question, even if they disobey God."

The light from the lantern seemed to dance on the boys' faces, and an onlooker would have had a hard time distinguishing between the 1940s and the cell churches where people worshiped in hiding during the early days of the Roman Empire.

"Anyway, the furnace was so hot, the people who threw them into it were burned; this is like those who follow evil orders, they will be consumed even as they obey. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego were tied up and thrown in, but when the king looked in, he saw not three people, but four people walking loose in the furnace, because the Son of God was in there with them, and because they kept their eyes on Him, the fire had no effect on them."

Moses rolled and looked up in awe, reaching his hands up to touch Oskar's face. The lad bent down, and Moses kissed him on the forehead.

Our rulers, Oskar contemplated, are much more wicked than King Ahab, their code name for the Gestapo. As more Bible lessons came, Oskar considered the meager surroundings. A canister sat to their right in which they made bathroom duties, and a washbasin from the Muellers allowed them to bathe. A small oil lamp remained lit at times, and at times a light bulb was used, where it was so dark nobody could see they were on from the outside. These were rare, though.

Carl arrived to get the cannister, considering the trap door idea. He wondered what was under their room, anyway; he just pictured lots of formless goo. He played with the children for several minutes, then left with the container. We are functioning like clockwork, Carl thought, which means Albert will probably have us run another drill. A bucket brigade of sorts began, with water being carried down for the wash basin. The children took sponge baths, as always. Moses still needed help, and the others were aided, too, if only so more time could be spent with them.

Schultz enjoyed watching and helping – at least he could see do things and not get anxious here. Albert ran downstairs and had them run a drill, then ran upstairs to test Heinrich and Heidi on watching out the window for things. The family hoped one or the other would show some incredible acuity, thus allowing them to receive that job full time. They even had a crate in which the kids could be carried if need be. Isaac worried about splinters, and Schultz helped by running over it with a damp cloth to make sure there were none.

Once everyone was in bed and the couple was finally alone that evening, Gretchen and Hans cuddled together. "Hans, tell me the truth. Are those men you guard the same ones that have been helping us?" They were. "Are there times they could get you in trouble?"

"Oh, you would not believe the things they do. Why, just the other day…"

"Hans, I do not care what else they do. They are with a construction firm. You were on loan at a munitions plant to guard them before they were released from a local jail." He protested, but she insisted, "That is the story. You blabbed about a prisoner today, and you must not say that! I have given you a reasonable explanation; now use it."

He understood. "Would it help if I pretended to remember the wrong month for when Colonel Hogan came to the…munitions plant?"

"I am not sure what that would do…but I suppose. They would think you had no chance of giving helpful information then, so, ja. Hans, I love you."

"I love you too." They kissed.

"Hans…this might be hard for you. But, if you really want to help, I want you to seem more.distant when you are up there. So, if you are questioned about something that is done up there, there is less chance of us being questioned, too." Hans began to insist that he couldn't, but Gretchen was steadfast. "Hans, Albert has done very well in making it fun, and not being too strict, but I am glad for one thing. Our children know that any little slip could be deadly."

"I know; there are times when I think about reporting the prisoners, because it could be worth my life if they are caught and I do not." He smiled proudly. "I could tell you practiced some. This evening, I overheard him run down and say, 'drill level four, clothes on.' He uses more code than the prisoners." Schultz smiled. "I am so proud."

"Oskar coined the codes and many practices, but Albert is in charge of timing them and working out kinks. Any word after drill means they are only practicing one thing. In this case, it was quickly putting clothes on while in the midst of a sponge bath. Now, if the word 'drill' had not been spoken, we would be at our highest level of readiness before fleeing; in fact, they are to go to one of our contacts and wait at level four. Level Three, which I put them on when that man was here today, means being ready to leave. 'Level five' meant instant flight, with no stops, possibly not even to get our papers, though a trap door should usually let us grab the fake IDs."

"Please, that is too much to remember all at once." He disliked the idea, but admitted, "That is why I get the job of distancing myself from you; it is easier for my brain. Correct?"

"Precisely. Do you think you can do it?'

He looked sad, but said, "Jawohl, my liebchen."

Schultz was more than eager to help; he was so proud of his children, and so happy that whatever was going on, not only did his family not believe Hitler, but the children of their close Jewish friends, at least, were safe. So, once he got back home, he'd gotten over his sadness about being told to be more distant, and was willing to do anything to help.

He would still send his paycheck, and talk about how much his children ate. But yet, Gretchen had wanted something where he would not be connected. And so, he had the perfect solution. After getting to know someone, he decided to go asking for a date.

And almost got sent to the Russian Front.

Still, the prisoners noticed he wanted to do this, and got the implication much fast then he would have. And, they distanced themselves from him a few times, too, talking like they only cared about him because of their mission, while genuinely happy for him on another round of dates.

**Late January, 1943**

"We missed you at Christmas dinner," Gretchen Schultz said as she took her husband's oversized coat. Several of the couple's children came running up to him. He'd gotten a 24-hour pass, and decided to come home.

"I know. I ate with the prisoners. But, at least I got here earlier to open presents." He smiled thankfully, too, that he'd been able to accomplish the mission his wife had given him. After the children were all in bed that night, Gretchen asked if things were really busy, and he said, "No, I was just doing what you told me to do."

Gretchen looked oddly at him. "What I told…Hans, I said we could be a little more distant, I didn't say not to come home or write again! Except for one time, you did not come home, and only sent cards on birthdays. And then you ate Christmas dinner with the prisoners?" She began to wonder why she'd ever told him to do this.

Hans looked downcast. "I am sorry, my liebchen; it is just that when you told me I should remain distant, I felt it was best if I complained about your cooking…"

"About what? Hans, you would eat food if it tasted like old shoe leather."

"That is true. I have. Do you think I went too far when I took flowers to a lady?" She did. Schultz shook his head. "Boy, then you are really going to think I was a dumbkopf. Now, I have not kissed anyone else, and you know I would never do that. However, as part of my mission, one time, I tried to look for a date, and almost got sent to the Russian Front. Another time, I did go out with a woman several times."

"What?! Hans, you would not last three weeks in this operation!"

"I am sorry, liebchen, it will not happen again." He continued to speak sadly as a pillow hit him playfully in the head. "It is just that when my ears heard 'distant,' my brain said the more I disliked you, the more it would help you if they thought I was on the Allies' side. Then, they could never come after your or the children, because they would think it would do no good. And furthermore, that the most distant I could be from you is if I were single." The feather pillow hit him playfully again. "Ja, I know. I am a dumbkopf."

Gretchen was beside herself, but not because Schultz had cheated; the way he was explaining this, right out in the open, she could tell it hadn't been that bad, and he wouldn't do it again. However, she had a bigger problem. "Did you not realize," Gretchen complained, "that by openly dating a woman, as a married man, you drew more attention?!"

"No, I was too busy being yelled at for not knowing she was a Gestapo spy."

"A spy?! You did not even check her out before you did this, to make sure she was okay?!" Gretchen threw up her hands. "Hans, I am sorry I said you would not last three weeks with my mission. You would have trouble lasting three days!" Gretchen exclaimed. "I just hope no Ally is as much of a dumbkopf."

"Well, there is this Russian woman Colonel Hogan complains about. Then, there is the Englander who replaced Colonel Hogan once, and then he came back…."

"All right, so there is one in every military, and you are my version of that English colonel. Please, Hans, just keep being a faithful provider for us. You do a lousy job as anything else. This is the kind of mission that requires subtlety when it comes to dealing with others. And, you are as subtle as that fat stomach of yours!"

"I am sorry, liebchen." She let him feel bad for a moment, then finally accepted his apology, and they hugged. "It will never happen again, I promise." And, it didn't.

"I know it won't. Now listen to me, and you listen good. Here is what to do." He nodded. "You can complain about my looks, or my cooking. It might shock people, but if you do not like someone's cooking, there is something very wrong. Next, when you have a chance, emphasize how much our children eat. That should not be hard to believe," she said, looking at his stomach. He said it was true. "I suppose you can ogle women, or pretend to like a fraulein, but do not go all gaga over them. Do you understand?"

"Jawohl, mein liebchen. I will try to be subtle."

"And, do not drop those hints all the time. Come home more often. Balance it out." He would try that; he'd actually had a three-day pass ripped up by Klink where he might have come. "Good. I know you were only trying to help. But, help is only effective when the person is competent," she said in a loving manner. They hugged again, and went back to discussing more pleasant matters.

- Suchltz only says he believes Hogan came in September – but the following is wrong with this. The person who asked would remember easily, Hogan is such an annoyance. Figuring that as a writer mistake, Hogan had to come after America entered the war with his uniform, and since it took 6 months to train Schultz, the mission couldn't have started before March, 1943 if that were ture, and it clearly did, with all the mentions of Stalingrad, which was over by the next month. So, Schultz is trying to plant some disinformation for whatever reason.

- "Sergeant Schultz Meets Mata Hari" – Since they knew they could find out information through Schultz, this had to come after another episode where he tried to get a date; since the prisoners seem happy and aren't confused, they had to know why he was doing it. So, any episode where he openly womanizes is likely in this time span, though taking flowers to one is possible once after this. As for the prisoners, there are odd times when they sound like he's really only important because he ignores them, and others when they genuinely seem to like him. This, discrepancy, too, is explained by a desire, over the long haul, to protect Schultz.


	6. Planning, Preparing, Praying,and Weeping

A/N: this is a short interlude that didn't' seem to fit anywhere else, yet seemed necessary as it's from the original, and helps to set the stage for the last half. It depicts more of the emotions they're feeling; it's things like this where I didn't know if I did as good a job. It's easy to overdramatize something like this, and how hard it was for such people. This is part of the problem I had in the diary-type entries.

**Chapter Six – March, 1943 – Planning, Praying, and Weeping**

Heidi cringed slightly as Carl led her swiftly down the steps. "Run," the boy whispered, mindful that they may need to scamper later. Running down steps was not a major problem, though Gretchen still worried someone might break a leg. Their co-ordination had become rather good from all the practice, though.

The children, with Gretchen trailing, carrying papers, scurrying with Micah, Isaac, and Moses to the tunnel. Heinrich crawled to the emergency exit and climbed up the rungs. He enjoyed climbing. He slowly opened the trunk's lid and crawled out into the brush, peering around. Seeing nothing, he whispered "clear one."

It was Albert's turn to shimmy up the escape, and he also looked around, saying "clear two." The others followed, with Oskar hoisting Moses up to Albert. Moses fussed, as he didn't wish to be held, but the others knew it was necessary - they would not be certain the three-year-old could climb up quickly, if at all. Even Heidi required assistance.

With no need to return that way, they closed the emergency tunnel, and walked into their own yard, surrounding the Jews s none could see them. The Jewish children felt little fear at being outside, as they moved in part of an elaborate system. As Gretchen watched, Heinrich and Heidi tipped the rainwater barrel, and Carl led the Rubin children down that tunnel. Albert glanced at his watch in the moonlight as the rest of family walked into their house. Carl tapped on the basement door, and Heidi opened it to let him into the main floor.

The Schultzes met in the living room. Oskar and Gretchen gave plaudits - complete with hugs - and suggestions. Albert insisted that "some way must be found to keep Moses from fussing." He kept his complaints under control, though, for their mother had worried on several occasions that they were becoming too much like a military unit. However, he had controlled himself very well since the talk with Kinch. Heidi tried to remember a time when they were not hiding Jews, but could not. The Jewish children, meanwhile, continued to think about how amazing it had felt to actually be outside. The fresh air felt so good, even though it was very chilly.

As the discussion continued, Heinrich and Heidi played "the watching game" out the living room window. They challenged each other to see who could spot something first - be it a certain color, an animal, a person, or a vehicle. They were a regular part of their day, especially when Heidi was alone with Gretchen while the others were at school – she would go to Kindergarten next fall, as she hadn't turned five until September. The games, while fun, were intended to build in them the capacity to watch the window for signs of Gestapo activity.

Oskar smiled. Once the discussion ended, he turned to Carl. "It was your idea; I believe you should go down the trap door first. We installed the rope ladder while you did your homework."

Carl grinned excitedly. The nine-year-old ran into the bedroom and moved several boxes before revealing a hidden piece of plywood, below which there were no floorboards; it was simply a little thicker than the rest of the flooring, to keep people from suspecting a trap door existed. He opened the "door," squatted, pulled the rope up part way as he glanced toward the floor, and breathed deeply. "Do not look down," Oskar suggested.

"Ja, that is a good to say that, after I have done it," he said with a mix of laughing and scolding. He ensured that he had a firm grip, and jumped, the top knot holding his hands in place.

Micah glanced nervously, and ordered the others to hide behind boxes. He picked up a crowbar, which stood out of view near the box. He did not think anyone could have found the trap door, but he was not sure. Quickly, he noticed that the one who climbed down was not an adult. "Carl, you scared me," he reprimanded his friend.

"Sorry," came the sincere and embarrassed boy. He had forgotten the password used when delivering food. "What was it I was supposed to say?"

Oskar overheard and chose to say nothing about the lapse. Micah's comment and tone would be enough for Carl. He stated as he descended - "Joseph, it is me, have you had any dreams."

"Oh, yeah, thanks" came Carl as Micah instructed his brothers to come out of hiding. I guess we don't practice that part too much, he noted. Moses ran over and tried to climb up the rope, but he couldn't pull himself up to the next knot.

"Heinrich and Heidi might have trouble rising quickly too," regarded Oskar, "but that does not matter; we must only be ready to go down briskly. Albert, good job helping Heidi, but see if you can hold her and do it so we are even faster; I will do the same." He told the others to descend, and advised everyone to be ready. "Albert will test us within the first couple hours." He glanced at his brother, signaling him to consider that an order to do so, although he knew with Albert's love of it, he didn't have to order him to do it.

As Oskar trekked upstairs to watch and to listen for knocks at the door, Heinrich spouted that "I worry about what will happen; I wish we knew how this would end."

"Sometimes I still cannot believe Mother does not know," remarked the girl.

Gretchen squeezed Heinrich and Heidi. "Patience is one of the hardest virtues," she admitted soothingly. Yes, Gretchen noted, children are built differently. She recalled Frederick stating that the Lord taught adults to be more patient by having them deal with kids. She thanked the Lord that Jesus came from His throne in Heaven to suffer at her level.

"At least the practices are routine," Albert remarked. The eleven-year-old stated that "if you know what to do if we flee, and have done it well in the past, you will be fine if we have to." A glimmer in his eye, he shot a query at Heidi - "What is your imaginary name?"

Hardly skipping a beat, she exclaimed - "Gretchen Gruber!" Heidi received a big hug for this. She relished this style of play. Indeed, the family had incorporated several of her imaginary friends, as well as their own fake names, into their "play." Albert elicited the correct counterfeit names from the Rubin children, as well, and they, too, received many warm hugs. I wish it were as simple as he tells them, Gretchen considered with a sigh.

The matriarch ceased her worries as Albert spoke. "You all did very well. I am glad we built that door, Oskar told me a while back he had been wondering about noise, too, should the Gestapo be at the door and we have to flee down the steps." Especially at night, Albert pondered.

"And I am glad you are being more positive, and willing to give out so much more praise," Gretchen told him, putting her arm around him. "It is a lot easier, isn't it?" She didn't embarrass him by mentioning that part of why she knew it would be easier was because he was dealing with the fear he felt at times.

"The only problem is," Micah managed to joke, "even with the new toys and games Mr. Schultz developed, we will use everything in the world in 'Twenty Questions' by August." The group snickered. At least they try to be with us a lot, mused the eldest Jewish child. We shall never fear with them near - or with the Lord near. He felt enormously pleased that they spoke so often of God's love, for he sensed little love from others in their nation.

"Mother," Albert inquired, "when we get free, we will adopt the Rubins, right?" Gretchen remarked that to the Lord, they had already done so. "Then, will they change their names?"

Gretchen shook her head vehemently, her curls bouncing on Heidi's face and tickling her. "They were the Rubins' blessing, and must always remember their heritage." She told the refugees that "I want you to always recall your Jewish roots, even if you all believe in Jesus as Messiah and become Christian Jews." After a few more minutes of talking, Gretchen walked upstairs, carrying her sleepy daughter.

Oskar considered his favorite memory verse as he glanced skyward out the window, the city darkened lest the Allies bomb more easily. Would he need to walk through that "valley of the shadow of death," to lead the group through such an ordeal? He wasn't sure, but he recalled a number of times when they'd been at level three, all but going to the Hoovers'. Near discovery convinced him that the Lord was watching, in that they were not discovered, and that their practices paid off magnificently. However, concern over his ability gnawed at him until he pondered the real force behind them all. "Praise the Lord," he uttered.

His mother snuck up behind him after a while. She felt much less like a drill sergeant and more like a loving mother, willing to do it all out of her love for her children, which was what she wanted to be all along. Oskar had gained incredible respect as the group's leader. Could the fellow who Schultz dealt with and ignored be any better, she wondered. Certainly, being older, he would be more skilled. But, she couldn't imagine him being much better than her band of heroes at a similar age, always willing to dream the big dreams.

Oh, how I wish I could give these children a normal childhood, she thought, putting an arm around him. "_I am so happy I do not have to work; if I did, I would never be able to help the Rubins, _Gretchen meditated. _Our biological kids play for a while, outside when the weather is decent, and come in to play with the other three in spurts. Homework is intermingled with caring for them after dinnertime. I sometimes provide them the answers if it has been a tough day, so they can help the Rubins a little more; I still make sure they know them for tests, though._

"It is not what it was like years ago, is it, Oskar?"

Oskar tried to sound brave. However, it was quite difficult for him. "We could not imagine it would be exactly like that, with the war."

"I mean, you do not play like before, you do not...I don't know. It seems like you are missing out on so much that I enjoyed as a child."

Oskar put his arm around his mother. "It is still good. Carl says the Nazi propaganda steals more because we are taught to hate, and he cannot stand to hate." The thought made her smile. Maybe I just think too much about the Rubins, considered the mother. "I wish Father had come home for Christmas, but it worked out well. We had fun eating in the cellar. So, do not feel bad. We have good memories. And, they say that the taunts, and worse, really hurt them. Now, they feel love and joy surrounding them in their little hideaway."

"That is true." Sure, living in a basement was no fun, but as she told Oskar, right now, "there are likely Jewish children who, in their short lives, know no joy at all, at any time before they are killed by our sadistic leaders." The thought brought tears to Oskar's eyes, but he knew he couldn't afford to show compassion toward Jews in the open, even when he thought nobody was watching. So, despite his mother's assurance, he merely wept a couple tears, then went to pray.

--------------------

Oskar gazed out at the pitch black darkness, and thought about all that they had been through. _"This land of lies will be defeated, I can feel it,"_ he told himself, feeling a little more confident each day. He struggled, but knowing the love that everyone – even his father, back at Stalag 13 –helped him to think it could be done, despite all that had been taken away. _"Our leaders said German superiority would win out, that we were somehow better than anyone, and that some races deserved to die. Well, those lies are going to be destroyed; there is no master race, we are all one and all loved the same by God. It is we who condemn ourselves when we reject Him. I don't know how some of this will turn out, but I continue to pray, now mostly for a quick end to the conflict, in addition to wisdom and courage, plus time to prepare, should we flee. One day, history will look back on this as the worst example of inhumanity ever. I earnestly hope later generations will realize that these monsters did indeed rule Germany."_

He knelt and prayed, willing to weep in secret over all that he'd lost, and over his nation. _"Oh Lord, save our nation. Heal our land from this ugly dark spot, and never let it be forgotten, no, never let us be capable of repeating such an act. Let us not look to people, riches, nature, or any other thing, lest we take our eyes off You, the giver of life and author of our Salvation. For when we turn to anything that does not promote human life, we condemn ourselves to possibly live through yet another Holocaust, for we place ideas above people, one life above another. May these evil Nazis be utterly destroyed, their despicable deeds loathed by all forever. May those who perish be remembered forever, so we do not come close to repeating our cruel ignorance."_

--------------------

Gretchen considered the terrible price the Jews paid. She prayed once more that their effort be worth it, and then walked into her room. In the secret envelope containing several documents, one which, should they flee, they would tear up and eat, she pulled out a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Rubin. She felt she had better remind them more of their heritage, and recalled a wonderfully fun time spent with the Rubin family years ago. Yes, she thought as she went downstairs, this would be a good story to tell.

Moses was not yet asleep, which made her grateful. This would make a perfect bedtime story for him. Before she could speak, Heinrich noted that "Isaac said he hoped a war could not last a thousand years. We would all be dead by then, wouldn't we?"

"Yes, well, the tide is turning. It will not last that long. I brought something to show you, and then I have a wonderful bedtime story about the old days." This was her term for when the Rubins were living. She showed the photo to Moses. "Do you know who this is?"

An anguished look covered Gretchen's face as Moses thought, first for a second, then for a moment that seemed like forever. Oh, no, thought Gretchen, does he not recall anything? Though comprehension came slowly to the three-year-old, Mrs. Schultz began to bawl at the wickedness being done.

Micah, wishing to stop the crying, whispered "that is our parents who died."

A light bulb went on in the tot's head. He knew he'd recognized the people, but it had been so long since he'd seen them, he wasn't sure from where. He hugged Gretchen. "I sorry, Mother," came Moses, "I will remember them the next time." He knew Mrs. Schultz must be very hurt, but his embraces could not stop the sobs, for Moses had done what he often did, calling Mrs. Schultz "Mother." After two years of darkness, he could not show the kind of excitement toward the picture of the couple that he used to show.

Gretchen could not bear the thought, but she knew she eventually needed to come to grips with the fact that for Moses, the emotional bond had been broken, thanks to their evil leaders. While the older Jewish children wept a little at seeing the photo, Moses showed little emotion, even after recognizing the people. Slowly, the memory made him cry some, but Gretchen knew his memory, his very heritage, could not be completely restored.

Gretchen never told the story that night. She could not bring herself to speak.


	7. Closing In

**Chapter Seven - August, 1944 – Closing In**

"Mother, can I go to Berin and punch the Fuhrer in the face?"

Gretchen chuckled, and put an arm around Carl, congratulating him on never speaking his true feelings when he is at a Hitler Youth rally or something. He didn't fight like he had years ago, but she could tell he needed to let off steam like this at times. "I know it is hard. But, we are all doing a tremendous job. And, one day soon, we will have freedom.

Gretchen smiled, grateful that her children still knew how to have fun. They had devoted lots of energy to preparedness, but had she not insisted on them getting out and playing, sometimes they would spend so much time indoors, down in the basement, they would almost feel like prisoners themselves.

The fact that her husband had known about this for almost two years helped, too. He'd gotten 24-hour passes here and there – he would sometimes speak of going in to town even if he came home, just to make the prisoners think he wasn't spending as much time there. He also had gotten a few three-day ones, including this one. It was likely the last long stretch he would be home before the end of the war.

"The Allies are in Europe now," Schultz said merrily as he helped to give Moses a sponge bath. "I am sure by next summer, you will all be outside playing."

"I knew you would tell noone, Father," Carl said as he brought a fresh canister down for going to the bathroom. "It has been so good to have you help us."

"it is like I told someone once; there are some things I do not even tell myself," he said merrily. "There you go; you are nice and clean. Do you need me to read you a story?"

"Nein, maybe later," Moses said. As they all got dressed to go to bed, Schultz went upstairs, proud to be able to make at least a little difference. Things were going well. Almost too well, it seemed, though they didn't know it.

As Carl climbed up the rope ladder, and opened the trap door, Albert ran in and said, "Level Two." He knew that meant a car was pulling up, but it didn't look like Gestapo. Technically they still liked to stay on that level, even if only Schultz was there, but it wasn't needed.

Carl wondered who would be coming. Innumerable plans could be put into effect in a situation like this; the box plan to carry the children had really been unusual. Who would be coming, he wondered as he emptied the old container into the toilet and flushed. Would the Gestapo...no, he told himself, why think such a thing? They would be higher than level 2, that was for sure.

He knew someone could be informing them of the Gestapo's imminent appearance - certainly better than hearing them at the door - but they had heard of nothing suspicious, and seen nobody watching them. Besides, he'd learned that such warnings usually came via phone.

Still, recognizing that the Spirit could be guiding him, he walked to Heinrich and Heidi's room, where they played a little before getting their baths. "Keep your clothes on just in case, and mind the windows a little."

"Are we on level three?" Heinrich inquired. Carl told him they might wind up there. Indeed, just as the family had grown accustomed to watching windows out the corners of their eyes, they'd grown used to worry...no, that wasn't the right word. They knew they were prepared, and could flee quickly. A heightened state of readiness was a good phrase, their mother had said. It was like the precautions taken by a goalie as an attacker neared with the ball; they felt little fear over ringing telephones, or over anyone approaching them. Instead, they merely prepared, knowing what must be done, and reminded themselves of it when the time came.

Meanwhile, after a moment, a knock came on their door. Schultz didn't think of how rare it would be for someone to knock, so he just casually opened it. "Hello," he said pleasantly, presuming the elderly lady was one of Gretchen's friends.

"Mr. Schultz?" He was. "I came from a wedding, and tried to stop by to see your neighbor, Mrs. Mueller, and there was no answer. She is not in thehospital again, is she?" the lady asked worriedly; that had been the excuse a couple times for why she shouldn't come.

"Nein, Mrs. Mueller..." Schultz began. Oskar, hearing the name, put down his bible and yelled "boom" at the top of his lungs, hoping to stun his father into silence. He did; Schultz gave him a strange look as Oskar and Gretchen ran to the door. "Albert just took..she...was is los?"

"Oh, yes," Gretchen said sorrowfully, "so nice of you to come. I am sorry, we meant to call you, but we were too busy. She passed away last week."

"Oh, that is too bad," Hans remarked with genuine sadness, recalling that they always cared for her. "Wait a minute..." he started, eyes widening before Oskar shushed him heavily, preventing him from saying that the last two days, they had taken food into her house.

The friends from Berlin were disappointed. "Well, I can understand; she wasn't well, was she? You always took such good care of her, Dear."

"Danke. Thankfully…it was not a long illness. She was just in the hospital one day, and the next, she was gone." Yes, Gretchen said, gone. Gone, just as this ploy was now gone. But, it was a wonderful plan while it lasted. And, surprisingly, she found herself getting misty-eyed thinking of her, and how for several years after she was gone, Mrs. Mueller had helped keep people alive.

"Perhaps…you can send the obituary to us?"

"I will try…if I still have it, I hope I did not throw it out. I believe I still have your address, from when we would write to her." Hans backed away, going into the younger childrens' bedroom to tell them that Mrs. Mueller had now passed away, unsure of what else he could do and getting a knot in his stomach. Or, rather, an "I know noth-ing" in his stomach.

"Well…danke. If you did not save it it is no problem. At least I got to meet the neighbors who had helped her for several years. You have a wonderful family." She waved goodbye, and Gretchen closed the door.

Schultz was telling Carl, Heinrich, and Heidi that Mrs. Mueller was dead, but getting a little confused. "I know she was already supposed to be dead, but what I am saying is, well…she died several days ago, I think." He thought for a moment as Gretchen walked in. "No, because we took food to her earlier today, which would mean…"

"Hans, you think too hard. In this business, you improvise. Now, I am going to call the doctor, and then get her to the hospital."

"But…if she is already dead…"

Gretchen sighed. "Nein, nein. Hans, I gave her date of death as last week. I am not a doctor, so although I thought years ago that I could say I'd found her gone, I needed to have her in a hospital so it threw suspicion off of me. Now, we can blame the hospital for losing the records."

"Let me see if I have this straight. Mrs. Mueller is supposed to have died last week. So, a doctor signs a death certificate this week that says last week, even though we took food to her this week, and she did not die either week." When told he was right, he threw up his hands. "It is a good thing I know nothing about any of this; if I did, I would always have a headache."

Gretchen had had the doctor sign the certificate, and had the hospital given a copy of it, as was the funeral home. She called and lambasted the funeral home for their extreme inefficiency.

The next morning, a Monday, Heinrich and Heidi played in the living room, employed in their favorite game - "the watching game," as Gretchen termed it. They loved to battle to see who could spot something - a color, a shape, whatever - first. As they searched for something yellow, the boy spied a strange car.

Excited to have noticed the Gestapo before his sister, he shouted "Maybe Ahab." Heidi observed it pull up to the Mueller's, and both shouted "Ahab's car, Level Three."

Soon, Gretchen ran through the house, grabbing papers and speaking in code to Oskar, Albert and Carl. Since Heinrich spotted it first, Heidi ran to the basement steps, where Carl raced down with her. Others scurried everywhere, and the commotion was such Hans expected Colonel Hogan to pop out of a cupboard from a secret tunnel.

Gretchen rapidly calculated several options. She knew Hans could be a hindrance to the children escaping if they all left at once. Also, the original plan stood even with Hans there and in the loop; if need be, Gretchen would draw the Gestapo's attention while the kids got away, and if there were no further problems, she would call them back, or they would flee with them.

Therefore, as Albert descended through the trap door and Oskar gathered several items, she instructed Heinrich "tell them I say 'level four,' use emergency two and wait at Esther's."

"Wass is los, wass is los," Hans wondered incredulously as Heinrich obeyed and Oskar followed, glancing back at his mother, whom he hated to leave under any circumstance. As the others disappeared, and Gretchen went out their front door, Hans recalled that he hadn't seen Albert depart. He checked in each bedroom and the bathroom, however, and found nobody. "What is going on here," he asked himself, quickly recalling times when prisoners would swiftly disappear. Only then did he recall the trap door. He really wished he could help, but they knew all the codes and plans, not him.

Heinrich speedily called down the orders as the Rubin children scampered toward the exit, with Albert leading them. Albert slowly lifted the rainwater barrel, peeking out before exiting. This evacuation proceeded on a slower pace than it would at Level Five, only because Level Four didn't necessarily mean the Gestapo were at the door; Level Five almost required that. The main crux was that Level Five required immediate flight to freedom, but that part didn't affect this part of the operation. Of course, Oskar could always bring a secondary command as he descended; to advance to Level Five, to call out positions, or to use or not use the box.

Carl and Heidi were next, and they helped Isaac and Moses up. Heinrich, Micah, and Oskar followed while Albert peered around to determine if anyone noticed them; they were on the other side of the house from Mrs. Mueller's. They remained unseen, so Oskar moved in front and led them through numerous back yards, their own bodies surrounding the Rubins' as best they could, using Albert's formation.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil," Oskar recited confidently, boosting everyone's spirit. "The Lord is with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." Numerous other verses were spoken as they walked to the Hoovers'. The escape had been nearly flawless. Given time to think, Carl was a little concerned, but he kept muttering "greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world," and slowly became calmer.

Several seconds later, Hans checked downstairs. No children were present, no matter where he looked, thanks to the concealing of the tunnel entrance. He slowly backed away, whining "I see nothing, nothing!"

Gretchen, meanwhile, had walked over to Mrs. Mueller's. "Good morning," she spoke calmly to the men, "what brings you here today?"

With a condescending voice, one agent remarked that "we have come to see about Mrs. Mueller. There was no record of her death at the funeral home."

Gretchen nodded sadly, flailing a hand. "All the best men are at the front," she lamented as a two other agents looked around inside. "I called the funeral home myself and gave them a good tongue lashing for the way they treated our friend."

"Yes, they told us you were quite..." It took him a moment to think of the word. "Abrasive, I believe he said."

"I am sorry if they were hurt, it is just that I spend my whole time correcting my children, and making sure they treat the elderly with respect." She laughingly recalled something her husband had written once. "Hans, that is my husband, he says he often thinks of me during bayonet practice."

Coldly, with a look that said he could read her very thoughts, the agent asserted, "I know, we read that letter he sent you, one of many." The tone sent shivers down Gretchen's spine, though she hid it well. After they spoke for a few more minutes, he said, "Very well. That will be all for now, we will look at Mrs. Mueller's a second, and contact you if there is anything further."

"It will be nice to have new neighbors," commented Gretchen neutrally. Inside, she considered that their time may have run out in Heidelberg. _Should we go right now, _she wondered_. No, they are waiting several hours, unless I call. I don't want them to go without me, and yet I don't know if Hans will come - no, I want to save Hans, too, so I had better stay. If we all go people will wonder why, and question him about his own loyalty or whatever._ _Besides, there might be nobody in that house until the war ends, _she soothed herself.

Oskar, meanwhile, led his group several blocks to the Hoovers'. After much discussion, they had developed a formation wherein the children would walk so that nobody could gain a clear view of them. This required a good deal of position-shifting, of course, which had to look playful. As they prepared to round the corner, Oskar spied a motionless car with a person inside and froze, his hands telling the others to do the same. Could it be the Gestapo, he asked himself. Possessing false credentials, he determined that he could probably ask those in the car for directions. On the other hand, he assumed the Hoovers would know they were being watched, and could tell their mother if their phone wasn't tapped. The Jewish children trembled slightly, with Carl, Heinrich, and Heidi holding their hands. They were all in this together now.

Oskar instructed Albert, "go borrow a cup of sugar." The others walked to a nearby pine tree and stood behind it. Now, the tree was behind the Rubin children, with the Schultz's in front. Oskar knew Albert could be trusted to ask without showing signs of panic. Meanwhile, he wished to be the one leading the group should other dangers arise.

The thought that their closest contact - and his mother's greatest helper - could be discovered disturbed him, but he reminded himself and the slightly trembling youths of the Lord's promise, that He had overcome the world. He reinforced that through the Lord, they, too, could overcome this, while he himself tried to sound certain of it.

Albert obeyed and crossed the street while the others spoke of the weather and of various birds. He confidently trod up to the door, rapping on it to the tune of Beethoven's ninth. As Mr. Hoover opened it, he spoke. "I need to borrow a cup of sugar for Mrs. Gruber's special pies. There is a man outside who would love a piece," he stated much more lowly.

Mr. Hoover, unaccustomed to the Schultz's entire repertoire of codes, thought a moment before recognizing to whom he referred. "Yes, my wife will get it, please step inside." As Albert stepped in, Oskar exhaled deeply, wondering if the younger children really grasped the situation's gravity. Well, probably Carl does, though Oskar, but I don't know with the others.

As Albert stood in the foyer, Mr. Hoover motioned him into the kitchen. "You did not have a cup with you, I will give you one."

"As long as it could have been in my shirt," he remarked, his demeanor making him seem like a master spy. This confidence arose from his planning, for he had rehearsed endlessly for this and other events. As much as his siblings teased him about constant practices, those were nothing compared to what went on inside his head. And yet, he also knew he'd done a good job of not forcing it on everyone. They were making it enjoyable, too. "Have they watched you long?"

"A couple days. Not because of your friends, because of some...other work, my work. My wife handles the duties with the Jews," Mr. Hoover explained as he poured it. "Run along, they will wonder why you were in here so long otherwise."

"Mother is supposed to call if we can go home safely; your phone is not tapped?"

"We are not gone to let them tap it." He further remarked that "my wife is sending contacts word to steer clear of her for a few days, till the heat dies down. I do not believe they have anything concrete on us. The others may flee toward Sweden."

Gretchen informed the Gestapo agent that she needed to pick up her children from a friend's. She ignored her husband's confused questions, though she promised to explain once she got back. However, a call to the Hoovers' informed her that the children were at a further checkpoint, several miles away. "There are Gestapo agents watching, so they wanted to be careful. Albert borrowed a cup of sugar and we told them we radioed...well, Hans' friend," came Frederick, almost giving the man's regular code name.

"It seems strange, thinking of them going all that way," Gretchen mused. At least the children have practiced going those couple miles now, she told herself.

Gretchen called the storekeeper, who promised to tell her children, who had just arrived. "Hans," she remarked, turning toward her husband with uncertainty. Should she invite him? Or ask him to get help? "I know things have looked bizarre today, thank you for going along..."

The fat guard held up a hand. "Please, I have been in enough of these situations to know when it is time to know noth-ing."

She decided to take him with her. Gretchen observed the children with a small tinge of anxiety. She hoped nobody would stop them along these couple miles going back. Just in case, she told Hans to "go with the name 'Gruber' if we give it." Thankfully, no roadblocks existed, but this simply caused the lady to become more frazzled.

Hans, choosing to "hear, see, and know nothing," intentionally kept himself ignorant, playing with the children and enjoying the remaining hours with them. An unexpected calm seemed to prevail over the entire family; even the Jewish children felt more at ease. Gretchen appreciated the efforts Hans made, and his concerns. Hans, meanwhile, felt excited, though he hoped that he wouldn't' have to remember any codes..

Several days after Schultz returned to camp, the Hoovers announced they were back in business - for the time being, anyway. The calm which followed, however, was merely the eye of the hurricane. The most frightful part of their ordeal would soon commence. A couple weeks after that, a Gestapo agent moved next door, as a vacant home was needed by the government for one. The children remained on Level Three as the new neighbor and Gretchen spoke. He hadn't sounded overly aggressive. However, his warning tone about being sure they wouldn't try anything treasonous made her quite anxious.


	8. Big Troubles

**Chapter Eight - October, 1944 - Big Troubles**

The night eerily silent, Heidi sensed trouble afoot as she followed her siblings past an immense stream of homes. Heidelberg was always dark at night, thanks to continued Allied air raids, but this time, it felt ominously lifeless.

Suddenly, she looked around, and her brothers had disappeared. Behind her, a bevy of monsters followed after her, their feet stomping harshly as they sped up, ready to overtake her. "Young lady, you are helping to hide Jews," they kept bellowing at her. Finally, she tripped and fell face down, screaming.

"Heidi, wake up," her youngest brother mumbled as Gretchen ran in. Heinrich tried to jostle her awake, while appearing himself to be practically sleepwalking. Gretchen picked up the wailing child as she arose from her slumber.

"It is all right, my dear," soothed her mother, "it was only a dream." Oskar ran in as well, as Albert and Carl snoozed downstairs with the Rubins. Gretchen rocked the little girl back and forth, wondering if all their nights would be like this since the Gestapo had commandeered the house next door. Heidi's sobs became more muffled, though she still cried.

Oskar directed Heinrich to "watch the wall," and sat next to his mother and Heidi. "That will make her feel a little safer, with someone watching the window." The monsters may be imaginary, the lad pondered, but they're her mind's view of the Gestapo.

"He is barely awake," came from Gretchen's weary lips before she could stop it. "I guess he will do, it is the Lord who will truly be watching."

"Make him watch all night, I am scared," sobbed the girl. Once again, thought her mother, even when we are not with them, we see what the Rubins must be going through. She began to lowly sing "Jesus loves me" and rock her to sleep.

"Mother, how about we take turns watching the window at night..."

"No, Oskar, you all have school, and you must keep learning and keep your grades up for after the war." Gretchen sighed. "If you've had no sleep a couple nights that is one thing, it is why I let you rotate on school nights even though they may keep you awake. But after a while..."

"Mother, we are in much more danger now. Heidi senses that, even though we try to hide it, we all sense it." He thought a second. "At the very least, most of us should be sleeping in the basement."

Gretchen grew amazed at her eldest's willingness to sacrifice. First he wants us to give up sleep, then to risk illness by sleeping in a drafty basement, the woman thought. She discerned that he and the others would flee right away - they did not feel the same loyalty to the Fatherland she did. To them, the leaders were the Fatherland, and all were corrupt. Or, did she feel something more, too? Perhaps, Gretchen considered, we have tried to hang on to this home, to this life, hoping that we could reclaim it after the war.

Yes, she deduced as she sung her little girl to sleep, part of why they stayed at first was so Hans would be unsuspected, but most of it was the faith that their leaders would be overthrown before they needed to flee. They simply felt God would protect them. He has so far, she reminded herself, but one day the devil could get in. That hand of protection could be lifted. She began to comprehend the pain and torment the Rubins must have gone through when leaving their children with her. The Gestapo had gotten to the Rubins first. Would they get to them?

As Heidi dozed off, Gretchen whispered to Oskar that "we should stay on Level Two from now on, but we did not even sleep down there before when you father was here and didn't know."

"We knew he was safe, though, we just didn't follow through on our faith." Oskar remarked that "at the very least, let Heinrich and Heidi sleep there."

"They are the ones I most worry about. You do a fine job, but they really need me to fully comfort them after nightmares." Gretchen recoiled at the thought that Oskar and Albert might sleep upstairs and she in the basement. No, she told herself, if anyone is to draw the Gestapo's attention it will be me. She had given almost every ounce of her strength to keep her children from worrying about capture, and to maintain their distance from any implication that they might be harboring Jews. She could not let them take that chance.

She informed him there would be no major changes, but added one little item. "If you wish, since there are often two of you sleeping down there now, Heinrich and Heidi can sleep in your room with you." Oskar finally relented, and walked out to inform Heinrich of the decision.

The eight-year-old gazed into the murky, depressing streets. So as not to startle the boy, Oskar said "it is me, Oskar" as he walked into the incredibly dark living room, faces barely visible. Pale moonlight meant the Allies likely would not bomb, but one never knew. "Hey, buddy," came the older brother's voice. The sleepy child lit up a little.

"Are they gonna come tonight," Heinrich wondered seriously, too tired to appear overly worried. Oskar knew he might ask that for the rest of the war.

"I just said that to make Heidi feel better." Oskar knew they could come, but he remained truthful about the main purpose of the order, so the boy wouldn't get scared. "You and Heidi are sleeping in our room. It will make escapes quicker."

Heinrich nodded slowly. He increasingly wished to know what the outcome would be. He wasn't as troubled as Heidi, but he knew things could get very nasty. "How are we going to use the emergency tunnel if that man is next door?"

"He cannot see the barrel one, and Albert will go up first to distract him if we must use the one in his yard and he is home." The fifteen-year-old felt shock at how casually he spoke of escapes. What must Mother think about all day, he asked himself, if I ponder daring breakouts as if I spoke the multiplication tables? What have they done to us?

Heinrich couldn't sleep, so they spent half an hour reading the Bible in Oskar's room before going to bed. At least God has given us refuge, he pondered as he nodded off, because it feels like we have no Earthly hideaway. Our very neighborhood is now infested with evil.

With Level Two status maintained for over a week, the children could sense that their mother poured even more of her heart into their efforts than usual. Indeed, she somehow sensed they should flee, but wanted to hold on to their lives, to have something to live for after the war. Seeking to hold on to their home, while awaiting a chance to take Hans with them - and, perhaps, the rest of their family, for if he were taken in, the Gestapo might also suspect his siblings and in-laws - the matriarch convinced them to remain.

Peeking out windows proved challenging but doable; games could always be played near them, for instance. Exercises increased as the group prepared for a possible evacuation. The children didn't mind it a great deal - to the youngest, it simply meant more competition to notice odd shapes, colors, etc.

To Gretchen, however, the task proved enormous. Her skin more wrinkled, her hair graying substantially, and her increased tiredness demonstrated that something provided a terrible strain for her. She quickly blamed it on the war and the approaching Allies, but family members detected something more, especially talking to her shortly after an incident early one morning.

As Gretchen read to Moses in the basement, and Micah and Isaac played with construction toys, a low "thump" was heard near the position of the first emergency exit. Gretchen sat up with a start, as the Jewish children scampered into the hideout. Micah considered venturing out to investigate, but Gretchen pushed him back. With the others at school, something rarely - which, for them, meant only a couple times a month - practiced could occur. "If I am not back in five minutes," she whispered to Micah, "hide until the others get home, I will leave something." She took a piece of chalk from their blackboard and inscribed a tiny numeral five on the wall above the box.

She inched over to the tunnel and peeked into it. Good, she thought, no people. She noticed a packet similar to their own false papers, but larger. It was the Hoovers' contacts, along with the names of several other Jews hiding in the area. The coded message indicated that Frederick was in Gestapo custody, and that Ada had dropped off these items. This mildly relieved the woman, as Frederick involved himself mostly in sabotage work. However, the situation was desperate enough for Ada to abandon her role.

The mother quickly slipped the items inside her blouse and informed the Jewish children of the situation. The desire to flee became all the more real, and she sensed that now, escape would be required very soon. She ran upstairs, checked the windows, and grabbed the Rubins' false papers. They would remain with them the whole time now.

"What is happening," Isaac whispered.

"Our friend, Esther, has had to close the business," Gretchen explained. Thinking a second, she pondered that someone could have seen the emergency tunnel; at least the first one. She instructed them to "stay near the barrel exit for now, till the others get home."

She telephoned the other contacts and told them to get the Jews out quickly if they wished to leave. Of course, with Frederick taken in for questioning, that didn't mean the Jews in hiding would be targeted, or even known of, but things would get much trickier. For instance, Gretchen now needed to go to a different grocery store. She would venture to a market which was slightly closer to them - only blocks away - but at which she hadn't shopped in several years.

Gretchen visited that story a few weeks later, once all the children were home from school. The thought of leaving Oskar to watch everything would never get any easier to handle. After pondering successful trips to other places, however, she felt all would go well.

Though she saw nobody snooping around in her new choice of markets, Gretchen couldn't help but sense that someone might be watching her. She quickly dismissed the fear, as she'd felt this way many other times.

Suddenly, one of her neighbors walked up to her, pointed at the immense amount of food she purchased, and exclaimed "you are shopping for Jews!" Gretchen quickly noticed grease of some kind on her accuser's hands, and wondered how it got there.

Remaining calm by puzzling over that oddity, she forced herself to turn her nervousness into laughter, the mother snickered. "What are you talking about? You have never seen my five children eat," she added.

"You helped the Rubins in 1938, they hid in your house," came the denouncing tone, speaking daggers at her. "You like Jews!"

"I have no clue what you are talking about," remarked Gretchen, suddenly deciding to take her items up front and pay for them without completing the rest of her shopping. She could always drive to another business the following day. "And even if I did, that doesn't mean any have received my help. What you are saying is insane."

"I have been watching how much food you buy, and you'd better be ready to thank me for not turning you in!" The woman recalled that Hans and Gretchen hid the Rubins in their home during the "Night of the Broken Glass six years ago, and had sought to catch the woman violating the Nazi's policy. However, she'd never seen any evidence with which she could call the Gestapo. She'd told Gretchen's newest neighbor her suspicions, but he'd gone back to her after talking with Gretchen and replied that there appeared to him no cause to investigate.

Gretchen couldn't tell if the woman was making up her promise not to report. However, she couldn't afford to sound like she was admitting anything. On the other hand, if she dared the neighbor to call the Gestapo, they could easily be there before she got home. And, she couldn't bear the thought of Oskar having to face those monsters alone, leading the escape. She sincerely hoped it would be her, just in case she had to sacrifice herself.

So, she simply stared at the lady and remarked candidly that "You know very well that the Rubins were deported in January of 1941."

"They were not the only Jews in Germany," hissed the woman, and suddenly Gretchen realized that she was suspected for hiding someone other than the Rubin children.

She hoped she could make it home in time to pick up the children. Dear Lord, she prayed silently, I know it was You telling me we should flee. Let the children all make it safely, no matter what I must suffer, prayed the woman as she shoved the packages beside her in the front seat and tried to drive toward home. However, the car's engine wouldn't start. It was just then she realized why the woman's hands had been dirty.

Ignoring the items and the car, Gretchen took off running toward her house, praying that she would make it in time.

The dull, dreary day did not lend itself to nature watching. Indeed, it proved to be the perfect day to work indoors. As Heidi read a book and Heinrich played with the Rubins downstairs, Carl scanned the area outside the window. Oskar and Albert calmly discussed the situation. "Know what I look forward to the most after the war," Oskar wondered.

"What is that?"

"The reaction of a Sunday School teacher who asks who Ahab was." Both giggled as the eldest remarked that "instead of a wicked king, I bet you at least one of the youngest children would say 'the Gestapo.'"

Heidi glanced up from her book. "But, Ahab was with the Gestapo, wasn't he?"

"Ja," teased Albert, "Ahab begat Atilla and Atilla begat Adolf and his cronies..."

Carl perked up his ears as he noticed a car which looked to be moving slower than usual. Though it stood well over a block away, he stated "Maybe Ahab," as he had a couple other times. Heidi scurried to the window, flinging down the book. Oskar called out "Level Three" as Albert ran and grabbed the false papers - except for Gretchen's, which she carried, and the Rubins', which were on them at all times now - just in case as the auto moved toward them. So few people had cars this late in the war, the likelihood that a car was from the Gestapo rose dramatically. Albert also opened the trap door and called down the order to Heinrich. Without "drill" in front of it, the younger children knew a general evacuation could occur. Micah, as the oldest, ensured all had their papers as they went toward an emergency exit.

Heidi signaled them she knew what to look for, thus relieving them of that concern. Carl checked that the door was locked, then stood at the top of the basement steps, as a backup for Heidi and in case he had to run downstairs with her. She knew the stakes stood much higher, but still felt nervous around smaller concerns, such as that dark stairwell. She and Heinrich likely don't understand the full ramifications, mused Oskar, but perhaps that is best.

Heinrich heard the call, and ran with the Jewish hideaways to the start of their emergency tunnel. He could easily shimmy up the tree trunk and out; the barrel was another story. It being heavier, he needed one of his older brothers to tip it.

"Is the Gestapo here," whispered Micah anxiously as the others said a quick prayer. Moses whimpered a little, and Heinrich gave him a hug.

"I do not know what is happening upstairs," came the voice laced with nervous laughter. All I know is we need to be ready to run, and run fast, he told himself, going over the route they'd traveled earlier and recalling his own fake name. And, that I am ready to let the Lord use me to slay a Goliath if one should come.

Heidi gazed thoughtfully, noticing every detail but paying special attention to the approaching vehicle and any other cars. She felt only a vague fear, for long-term consequences still weren't part of the seven-year-old's general thinking. Her nightmares about the Gestapo consisted more of worries over monsters, such as those creatures in fairy tales.

This was simply a favorite game. Either she or Heinrich would look for many things in preparation for this moment. Now that code words had been spoken, she knew exactly what to look for - the car slowing, perhaps pulling toward the curb - and would be not be distracted. The strain apparent on the others' faces didn't show nearly as much on hers. In a way, Oskar pondered, her faith is the purest of all.

As they pondered how efficiently everything worked for an instant, Heidi scrutinized the car like a hawk, her nose pressing further against the pane as Oskar intently looked that way, just one of many fail-safes in their many plans. She recalled how proud she'd been made to feel when she noticed the yellow butterflies, or the people wearing some odd color - even if it was only one speck on a hat, sometimes before Oskar or her mother saw them. Her muscles tensed, she looked like a soccer goalie ready to block a shot.

The girl bolted from the window as the car edged slightly toward the curb and slowed coming through the intersection. She hollered "Ahab's car," which sent the children scampering further. The girl ran to the basement door yelling "Level five, move to emergency one" down the basement steps as Carl led her down the flight. Heidi grinned broadly as Albert scooted down the rope ladder. She recalled the basement call as normally Gretchen's, Oskar's, or Albert's, out of fear the child could not remember little details. However, they'd done well in limiting her's and Heinrich's roles to this. Because of the narrow realm in which she'd worked, she'd performed her task quite well, with no difficulties in remembering those several little codes.

As Albert slid down the ladder, and Heidi ducked and ran down with Carl, Heinrich yelled "toss me mine" to Albert, who checked as he ran and distributed the necessary identity papers. With each of the Rubin children having their own papers, Heinrich rushed up the emergency tunnel before Albert could order him to halt. The boy stopped abruptly, just before opening the hatch. He could go back down if needed, but felt at "Level Five," this was the best route.

Oskar hollered down the Gestapo's positions and number, peeked at the door to ensure it was locked, and waited at the top of the steps. He would need to go down quickly enough to get away, but slowly enough that he could tell if any of them goose-stepped over to Mrs. Mueller's. Praying, he dashed down the steps, locking the door behind him. Those two locked doors would save them precious seconds.

Albert insisted upon going second, as he could help the younger ones up the escape hatch. He'd wanted to go first, however, because of the danger that an agent might see him; Carl could handle the younger ones for a while as Albert stalled. Indeed, with false papers, Micah could have done so, though this would have been an extreme last resort.

Heinrich opened the hatch and whispered down "clear one." He looked around and hopped out of the brush, then realized that one agent had seen him just as the Gestapo were breaking down their front door.


	9. The Valley of the Shadow of Death

**Chapter Nine - The Valley of the Shadow of Death**

He froze to see if the man would ignore him, saw he did not, and so rushed forward, recalling instructions in how to stall. These were normally given to the older children in their "family strategy sessions." Resembling one of Dickens' youths in his gray sweater, cap, and clothing that didn't quite fit, he looked ready to trick the agent out of some of his valuables. Albert glared at the boy from the tree trunk, which was open only a smidgen. What is he doing, thought the lad.

"Good afternoon, sir," came Heinrich, dashing obediently up to him - though in a manner so as to appear unhurried - and saluting, all the time thinking of the story of David and Goliath. Knowing he had to hurry, he pretended to trip, and sprawled onto the ground beside the agent. The boy got up behind him, forcing the agent to turn his back to the tree trunk and allowing Albert to quickly rise up, whisper "clear two," and assist the others.

"You, what were you doing back there," barked the Gestapo man. "Where are your papers?"

Heinrich pulled them out melodramatically and dropped them, seeing that the youngest Jewish children were just now emerging.

The agent looked down as Isaac and Moses were led away. Heinrich handed them to the official, wondering how often the Gestapo bashed down doors. "Quit clowning! Hmmm," the agent sneered, looking at the papers. At least he has everything in order, thought the fellow. "What are you doing here, Georg?"

Heinrich answered instantly, recognizing the fake name of Georg Gruber. If God is hiding my true identity from this man, why correct him, Heinrich considered. "I was getting Carl, we are going somewhere." Carl was now getting out, and Heinrich recalled Carl would assist Heidi. Heinrich received back his papers.

"Through the back yard," scoffed the man.

"Mrs. Mueller always said it was okay," the lad remarked, reminding himself not to look scared. As Heidi ascended with Carl's aid, and they freed themselves from some brush, Heinrich spoke to keep the agent distracted from any noise that may occur. "If you do not like us going through, Sir, you will have to talk to Mrs. Mueller, because my mother says always obey older people, and I am sure she is older than you." Ha, he thought, what a laugh, to always obey those who are so evil, who wish to kill my friends. Micah rose as Carl led Heidi, Isaac, and Moses to a spot behind someone's woodpile several houses away. "Why, I bet she could be your mother, maybe even Grandmother. Her husband died in World War One." Heinrich was really hamming it up as Albert assisted Micah up and prepared to take him to the same spot, while Carl led the others further away, to an assigned meeting point.

"Yes, well Mrs. Mueller has been dead for months," he informed the boy

Heinrich shook his head sadly and smacked his lips. Micah and Albert were clear, and Oskar began his ascent. "That is too bad. She was such a nice lady; no wonder we had not seen her lately." Oskar, having locked the back door and concealed their emergency tunnel as best he could under the circumstances, gawked at Heinrich as the boy distracted the agent further.

The Gestapo man showed no emotion. "Well, life goes on. Have you ever seen any Jews at you prowled around the neighborhood?"

"Nein. I have not seen any in a long time."

The agent was flustered, wishing to investigate this lad and his family further, but at the same time anxious to get into the Schultz's home. "Well, we are busy now, get out of here." Yes, thought Oskar, rolling his eyes. Come this way, for goodness sake!

The boy's playfulness got the better of him as Albert led the others to the opposite street on the block and toward the business they'd visited earlier. Heinrich tried to help them by pointing to places completely opposite their escape route. "Well, where shall I go? I can go past that woodpile, through that yard, and then climb a tree. Or I can go around that big house, toward the old castle..."

The agent fumed. "I do not care how you go, just go!"

At that point, Oskar snuck up behind the man, extremely miffed at his younger brother's impromptu acting. "Georg, are you bothering that man, he has work to do," scolded Oskar angrily. Showing the fellow his own phony papers, Oskar said "I am his brother. I hope he is not being a pest."

"As a matter of fact, he is," snarled the agent, slapping the papers back in Oskar's hands.

"Mother and Father are going to be waiting, did you find Carl?"

Heinrich shook his head. "This man will not let me."

"Then let us hurry along, we do not want to keep the general waiting." He pulled Heinrich by the ear, the word "general" preventing the agent from asking about the party, lest he be blamed for holding up a general's affairs. They noticed him enter the home in a huff, then ran rapidly. Oskar saw their mother running toward the house, and flashed five fingers at her. However, Gretchen noticed the neighbor, and insistently waved the boys onward, not wishing the woman to recognize them.

They responded. Oskar just noticed as he glanced back a Gestapo agent stepping outside and looking around, seemingly prepared to try and find the boys for further questioning. The children were now out of view, but just in case, Gretchen walked up to the agent.

The boys sprinted, with Oskar remaining at Heinrich's pace, so they could catch up with the others. The need to get his younger brother to safety overwhelmed the desire to go back and ensure that his mother was okay; he marveled at the parental instinct he'd developed. As they caught up, half a dozen blocks later, a quick perusal of the area showed no Gestapo cars followed them. Hopefully, Mother will come later, they thought, she has her papers.

Carl wiped his brow as he pointed them out and exhaled. "Phew, I guess I can tell my heart it can start beating again," commented the lad.

"I did good at drawing their attention," spoke Heinrich excitedly.

Oskar sighed as they walked briskly with the rest of the group. "I do not know whether to praise you or pound you after you took so long."

"I was just slaying the giant, just like David did to Goliath." Heinrich grinned. "You sound just like David's brothers."

Oskar rebutted by reminding him that "David may have picked up five stones, but he only needed one to kill Goliath. You were firing all five!" This is the chance we took relying on them, I suppose, the eldest considered. He probably figured as long as he wasn't caught with Jews, or didn't say they were hiding Jews, he would be safe. Oh, well, he'd done well before, and Oskar recognized he could still perform a valuable service. Oskar hugged the child as they walked and stated "I love you, and you did a good job at first, but next time once we are all out you leave, do not keep talking to the Gestapo."

"Ja, they are not worth talking to," whispered Albert.

As the sun set, the early evening grew eerie. A low siren penetrated the cold, crisp air, and Heidi began to tremble as she grasped Albert's hand. She murmured "God is good, God is good" like a mantra, the repeated thought coming through her voice as if intense concentration required her to shut off the part of her brain dedicated to keeping thoughts internal. Moses recited the same thing because he heard Heidi doing it. Soon, the sirens fled into the distance.

The group had only walked a mile, and already it seemed like a hundred. Several began reciting their memory verses again, but in the back of his mind Oskar wondered whether that might not arouse more suspicion. Still, as the sky dimmed, and they pondered whether they would make it there before nightfall, the group knew they needed something to keep them occupied. And, right then, nothing but the Lord would do; indeed when did anything else ever do? Never.

Oskar congratulated them all - seconds had made a difference. Even Heidi's call to evacuate and where to go had saved precious time. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," the eldest reiterated confidently, echoing the feelings of the others, "I fear no evil. The Lord is with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."

"The Lord is with us," Albert stated lowly as they walked through backyards and toward another dimly lit street, "who can be against us?" Inside, he was anxious, but also very glad that they were not so robotic that they had no chance to think. He was grateful for the advice given to him. He recognized that he probably would have felt nervous anyway; especially when Oskar and Heinrich took so look to get there.

However, he'd been assured that it was okay to feel that way. Though he didn't have his mother there to help, over the last two years, since tht conversation, he'd grown more in his fith, and could at least feel the presence of Someone; and, probably, the end result of lots of prayers adding up in their successful escape so far.

Carl reminded them that "God will never leave us, nor forsake us. We are in His hands, now." Numerous other verses were spoken as they reminded themselves and each other that while small, with the Lord they could be great.

Oskar pointed out where to go, while leading them, but still felt uneasy. As the sky grew completely dark, he feared a mixup in facts, especially if his father were also questioned, could arouse suspicion. At least none of our other contacts are known, he comforted himself. He felt increasingly disturbed, lest anything happen to their dad. Now, if the Gestapo suspected that his dad overlooked something on purpose, he, too, might be in grave danger. He forced himself not to think about that, reminding himself that things were hidden well enough, his mother could still get away, and come later. He only wondered what had prevented her from driving back.

----------------------------

"Gretchen Schultz," came the Gestapo man's voice as she pondered which identity to use. Right now, she could use either. However, her husband's lack of a fake ID might cause problems, and that this neighbor could make a positive identification, she needed to tell the truth. Besides, even if she claimed it was a case of mistaken identity, the Gestapo would, in this instance, still take her in for questioning solely based on the fact she had no reason to be here and had in fact been running like a maniac. Not only that, but she'd left her groceries and car at the store. "I am Captain Josef Strunk, Heidelberg Gestapo."

"What can we do for you," Gretchen inquired somewhat adamantly, hoping to protect the children. She'd only seen the two. She'd always prepared herself and them for "Level Five" being without her. However, not seeing the others still bothered her, and she felt they needed time to escape. She would stall them and let the children get free, then go later. The mother continued by asking "why is our house broken in like this?!"

The simple peasant woman, given this grand assignment by the Lord several years before, walked inside, and recognized that none of her children had been discovered after several minutes of moping around, pretending to be in a funk over the fact her house looked like a tornado had hit it. Good, she told herself, now whatever else happens, they are safe.

His assistants were rummaging through the house, one going downstairs in a hurry after they had broken down that door. "It is imperative that we examine each and every piece of this house. We have reports that there are Jews hiding here."

Gretchen allowed herself to guffaw. "Jews, here?! That is ridiculous!"

"Do you deny sheltering the Rubins and a few others on a November night in 1938," snapped the man, upset at himself for allowed a child to distract him earlier.

Gretchen shrugged and stated that "the Rubins have been gone for well over three years. Besides, it was not a crime in 1938." The agent harumphed.

One of the corporals spoke "there are no children here," as the lead agent rolled his eyes. Obviously, she thought, he wanted to pretend they found them.

"They are at a friends'," Gretchen remarked, referring to the couple who had promised, without knowing why, to allow this story to exist.

The Gestapo captain hummed, showing a lack of concern. "That may be true. I do not need them right now; carry on, Corporal, I will have two of you search the area around the house when you are done." The fellow went back to sifting through things. "However, I should like to have you come in for questioning to make sure these...rumors are unfounded." While as his superior had nixed the possibility when he investigated, Strunk had wondered about the Rubin children. When the fellow left to work in Berlin, Strunk decided to question Mrs. Schultz further if he got the chance. "We will talk to them when they return."

Gretchen wished she could refuse to go, but knew any refusal would be followed by an order to come downtown; and increased suspicion. This was the way the Gestapo operated. Besides, the children had been explained away, so she had no reason to stay. She only prayed she could forget everything. Once she was released, she would instantly flee.

Bewilderment and fear gripped Hans Schultz as someone banged on his door at Stalag 13 after supper. He'd just gotten off guard duty when they informed him he was wanted at the headquarters in Heidelberg. If they were after one of the prisoners, and he was being questioned if he'd seen anything, that would be one thing. However, that would almost certainly send the Hammelburg Gestapo after him. What if his family had been caught? Would he "disappear" as he'd heard of others doing? Where were his wife and children? He closed his eyes and feigned sleep, as he'd seen his children do, to avoid appearing too nervous, lest they suspect something.

Late that evening, he was shown into a very small cell, where his wife had waited and worried while being worn down for a few hours. "Gretchen, what are you doing here, where are the children," Hans stammered, wishing he hadn't sounded so frightened.

Once the guard left the two alone, the woman smiled. "It is all right, if they think you are clueless they might let you go." Gretchen instantly told her husband that the children were okay.

"It figures. They disappeared so quickly the last time, surely they could have gotten free." As they sat together, the woman decided to, somehow, try to get their stories straight. She asked herself if she would have left earlier without Hans in the picture. No, she determined, through their drills, they'd become very good at hiding every little detail indicating the presence of Jews. After the initial decision to stay, she would have remained for as long as feasible. They could have left at any time before, after all.

However, being politely ordered to Gestapo headquarters changed that. Now, her children would flee. That had always been the plan - if they look and find nothing, it's safe; if they take you downtown, the others start toward freedom. She would simply go later, giving her husband the chance to go with her. However, right now, consistent stories were essential. And yet, part of her longed to get it over with, to admit she did it all, and absolve any of her children - or her husband - from blame. She'd been mentally ravaged the last few weeks, she sensed what the Apostle Paul meant when he wrote to Timothy that he was being "poured out."

Hans and Gretchen felt as if the whole room were a corner; they sat against one wall, and they were almost on top of one another. "Hans," she began, asking the Lord to guide her so she could explain quickly and precisely, "thank you for not telling anyone else."

The patriarch could scarcely imagine the chances his family must have taken, as thoughts of what evils might have been perpetrated by his government swirled in his mind.

"Hans, if you are released before me, follow the children, do not wait for me. They come first." Her statement troubled him even more profoundly.

"But, but..." he began, stammering.

"Look, they have nobody outside of us, their world has been terrible otherwise. You must be the one to love them. I will try and come later, I will not let them get to me without great effort, I hope they can get nothing from me. However, we must do as we did with all our practices, and have backup plans."

The guard sighed heavily. "Do they suspect what you did," inquired the man.

No," she spoke lowly, "at least, that is not the major item. A neighbor suspected something and turned me in." Actually, she pondered, we were lucky, I remember a few years ago, hers was one of the neighbors whose trash we put the dirty diapers in. She just had nothing else on me until she saw how much food I bought. "You still have not made your promise," came the sudden rebuke. The well-being of their young ones occupied her mind almost completely. Hans could tell she would not depart from such queries until her promised.

The large man considered all the times when he'd been, while not unfaithful, certainly unthankful. Perhaps this was the best way he could make it up to her. Besides, she was right, she might go free, anyway. Quite begrudgingly, he said "jawohl."

"Good, now not another word, Oskar has taken care of everything; all we must do is get out of here. You know nothing, you only know, if pressed, that the children had many friends over, and that some liked to dig as a diversion, playing like they were prisoners of war breaking out of England." She gave several fake friends' names.

The thought slowly sank in as the fat ex-guard gazed toward the door of the cell. Yes, he pondered, getting out of here will be hard. The only ones who truly knew of their predicament were Oskar and his siblings, and if his wife's orders were anything like his – and Oskar would obey, he knew - by the time the Gestapo finished with them his children would be far, far away.

Hans grumbled a little. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his wife, but if he tried in desperation to free her, that might arouse even more suspicion. Not only that, but his children needed some sort of family. He whimpered a little, then embraced her. "I love you," came the weeping man. Gretchen returned the "I love you," then suggested that they discuss other things.

The couple waited for hours, with someone coming in to awaken them the minute one appeared to be dozing off. Around three in the morning, they ordered them to different cells, with each once again worn down and kept awake. The Gestapo hoped the knowledge each other was there and could be tortured would make them talk more easily. Gretchen recognized the technique, and committed false addresses and names to memory, intentionally remembering contacts wrongly.

She didn't think she would be forced to give out information, but she knew it was possible. She could instinctively go to one contact if she were interrogated and then released, and the others could be recalled through looking at papers at the other Underground stations. Oskar was using those same contacts, she hoped, to free the Jewish children. However, the promise from Hans soothed her considerably more than anything else could.

In fact, Oskar and Albert spent quite a while debating the very issue while the six youngest ate and, if they could, slept. They'd arrived with no more major problems. After Oskar ascertained that no Gestapo were in the shop, they ventured into a large storage area.

Oskar pondered waiting for one of their parents and let Albert go ahead, but his younger brother steadfastly refused. "If you wait for them," Albert insisted logically, "then I will want to wait for you at another checkpoint, then Carl will want to do the same for me, leaving Heinrich and then Heidi. You are now our leader, and like it or not, Mother and our Lord have given you the keys to saving our friends."

He put a hand on Oskar's shoulder, recognizing the disturbing thought of losing their mother. He knew that his brother often had qualms about departing without her; that was one reason leaving the house witnessed such practice, to the point where they sprinted to Ada's if it was just those five, pretending they were racing and playing. They would also race up the tunnel, coming down and pretending that they walked to Ada's and had to leave her behind.

Lovingly, he commented that, "We can each try to get an hour or so of sleep, Oskar, but that is all. Mother could have come had the Gestapo not shown up so fast, but we all knew what could happen. She may call, like the one time. However, we all know the opening was three hours, and if she did not call or come, we would go to level five. We are there now, even though only Heidi called it. I hate the thought, too, but logically I realize that we should flee."

Oskar lowered his head. He longed to rescue his mother, terrified of the Gestapo's methods. Even if they suspected nothing, they could really hurt her. Still, she'd prepared him for this for almost four years. In a couple hours, there could be no turning back. He had to keep telling himself that she could come later.

Thoughts of fabulous Christmas, birthday, and other family celebrations, with incredible joy and love surrounding them, swam swiftly through his mind as he tried unsuccessfully to sleep, and his lip trembled slightly. He forced himself to hide the tears, though, remaining resolute as always as he prepared to lead the group. "It is so hard now, leaving all of this," Oskar remarked as he awakened his brother. They noticed the storekeeper keeping a vigil at the window, just in case. "But, you are right. It can never be the same."

The Gestapo, meanwhile, finished with Hans after several hours of intense questioning. The guard is tired enough, Strunk surmised, he would give out anything if he saw it. Not wishing to entice him to remain, they didn't' tell him of their further interrogation of Gretchen. "Go, have one of my men take you back to your camp and report directly to your kommandant," the captain ordered. After he left, Mrs. Schultz, now further worn down, was ushered into the room.

Hans waited outside, determined how foolish rescue would be, and left. He decided that would be too risky right now. He slept for a couple hours, feeling refreshed by the time he was dropped off inside the camp.

Roll call had been made, and Hogan and his men were milling around the compound. "Schultz, what happened?" Hogan asked as he motioned Schultz and his men into Barracks 2. "We heard you got taken down to Heidelberg." He didn't say that they had their own tunnels wired just in case, though they hadn't expected it to be about the prisoners.

Once Schultz told them, he began begging. "Please, Colonel Hogan, you have got to do something. I do not even know which way they went."

"Well, probably Switzerland," LeBeau said.

Kinch rubbed his chin. "I don't know. All those mountains, it might be easy to get lost. I hear Denmark was really friendly, and it's occupied, so they might go there and then Sweden."

"Sweden, that's twice as far," Newkirk exclaimed. LeBeau thought it was possible, though.

Carter piped in that,. "The closest way would be the front." Everyone looked at him like he was crazy. "Well, think about it. Wouldn't you rather go where nobody would ever look for you?"

"Kinch, while they're fighting, get on the radio to the Underground and see if you can find out which direction they headed. Sorry, Schultz, but Heidelberg's hours away, I'm not sure what we can do for your wife."

As Schultz begged them more, Kinch said, "Want me to tell the men they can remove the dynamite from the tunnels, too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Hold it." Schultz had covered his eyes, allowing Kinch to open the tunnel underheath his bunk. "There might be a way."

"A way to what?" Schultz asked, looking goofy with his eyes covered as he spoke.

"Well, we had the tunnels rigged just in case you gave away anything about us that you've ignored." He decided it was safe to say that. "I don't think any of us has the bluster or the notoriety to just demand her to be brought to us; besides, we've tried that a few times, and don't want to do it every time." Especially if they would send her where I'm afraid they would, Hogan pondered. He knew nothing of death camps, but had heard horror stories about concentration camps. "But, what if…" He told Kinch his plan, and then asked Carter and Kinch to get started on it, too, in a few minutes. Kinch left, and Hogan told Schultz he could uncover his eyes.

"Oh, thank you, Colonel Hogan. Do you think it could work?"

"Well, it's the only chance we have. Now about your kids."

"Colonel Hogan, I was asked to go to be with them. I do not know any contacts, I do not know the first thing about what you do. I only know that I wish to leave. Kommandant Klink knows I am back, but I can always tell him that I was asked to carry out a very dangerous assignment, make something up, and leave." The others shook their heads. "Well, it was just an idea. Gretchen did compare me to Colonel Crittenden once.'

"Well, it depends on where you go. We might be able to have someone escape, have you go looking for them." They'd done it before, after all, Hogan surmised. After discussing it for a few moments, he said they would escape and have Schultz supposedly tracking them down.

"Ja, and where are we going?" Everyone in the barracks argued for Sweden or Switzerland, except for Carter, until Kinch came up and told them where they'd gone. The looks on the others' faces were comical as they gaped at Carter. However, Schultz said, "If they are anything like you, they will pull it off. Now, about my wife."

"We're gonna get on it right now, Schultz," Hogan said, trying hard to mask his concern.


	10. Freedom

\**Chapter Ten - Freedom**

By the time they reached the next checkpoint, late in the evening, Oskar decided on their destination. Were they going to Switzerland, they would have had close to twice the distance to travel as they did to the front. Now, that would be quite troublesome, as the Swiss had closed their borders. Sweden was their top destination, but the trip would be well over a couple days longer, and over four times as far, counting the ferry ride from Denmark.

While the Danish resistance performed brilliantly in the rescue of Jews, the route contained one enormous problem. It was the expected route, for what right-thinking person would risk running right into the German army? Plus, while the Danish hid their own Jews well, the Nazis knew that the Danes had been up to something; that was why nearly the entire Jeiwsh population - nearly seven thousand - had been ferried across in a single operation that made their own, and Colonel Hogan's, seem like small potatoes. They would be watched very closely near there.

Therefore, Oskar prayed and read as the others slept. Despite his mother's entreaties not to, he'd purposely spent several nights with almost no sleep. Given his age, he could take a sleepless night once in a while and still remain alert, as long as he had enough caffeine. He consumed some coffee, and went to the bathroom.

The rural area surrounding the region coded C-8 appeared much more serene than their neighborhood had, partly because nobody could live next door to them. Of course, it also provided fewer escape routes, meaning that several people maintained vigils in the farmhouse. Leaving in the depths of the night would prove essential.

The stoic leader ascertained there was one choice, and quickly awakened the others. He reminisced about asking his father, when he was little, if anyone ever was awake after midnight; he'd felt that he was up "later then anyone in the world" when he was awakened at midnight to ring in the new year in...had it been 1936 or 1937? The other children would remember a far different circumstance for their latest being awake - or was that their earliest?

The farmer's wife arrived smiling and carrying small amounts of fruit for each child. They'd eaten lightly before, but Oskar knew more would be needed to satisfy them. And yet, they couldn't afford to eat big here because they could become too tired.

Heidi and Moses snuggled on Oskar's lap, with Heinrich laying on one leg. Several others combined to determine how many could squeeze onto one lap at once. Oskar recognized that they should get moving rather quickly, just in case. "Albert, give me one last look in that sealed envelope," he instructed. He skimmed through it before ripping it up and passing the paper around. "Care for a snack," Oskar quipped.

"Is there any syrup," Micah wearily managed to joke. At least a little humor can be found here, he told himself, anxious for freedom and confident it would soon arrive. The route was still frought with obstacles, but he was among friends.

Everyone used the bathroom, and Albert spoke with a small strip stuck in his teeth. "Do you use a toothpick when it's really the same stuff," chided Carl, half awake.

"How should I know? Anyway, Oskar got some last minute names and places, right," Albert inquired of his older brother.

"No, choosing our direction. My friends, when you fight Goliath, you do not sneak around him, you go right up and knock him cold." He glanced at his younger brother on his leg and quipped "with one stone." Seeing puzzled looks on his siblings' faces, he explained. "The best route is right up to the front and through. Presently, there is a dearth of troops on both sides in various places. I am young Franz Gruber," he remarked, reviewing the fake names; the false IDs were the only remaining papers. "We are young soldiers wishing to fight for the Fatherland. We will get our uniforms on the front, except we will never make it there. We will go around to the Allies once we pass the final checkpoint."

"Can that be done," came an adult, their helper during the next phase.

With a smirk, Oskar nodded. "It seems impossible, but we will do it anyway. Really, it may seem hard to man, but not to God." After some prayer, all agreed on the path. Shortly after daybreak, they departed, planning to be at the front and cross in several hours.

Without Gretchen to drive and impersonate a German officer, that task was handed to a Dutch adult they had never met, but who possessed a good deal of experience. Oskar knew the code name from the papers which had recently been consumed. They spoke in code, and Oskar accepted the ride. The others sat in back, with Oskar opposite the driver. He appeared older than his fifteen years. The other man donned a fake German army uniform, with the rank of captain. I wonder if this is how Yankee would have done it, thought the teen.

The others climbed into the back to pray and eat. Sleep would be attempted by all, and each got a little. This, they hoped, would assist them, for they would almost certainly have to march, avoiding their own side and finding an opening through which to cross. Oskar knew little of troop deployments, but recognized that the front would not be solid, as it was in World War One. Some space would be opened somewhere. If not, he told them, "just remember the parting of the Red Sea. God will find a way, we must just prepare to witness the salvation of the Lord."

Oskar and his group approached their third checkpoint, just across the border into France, as the bumpy ride woke them. Though none knew the hour, they sensed it was still earlier than any of them ever arose - well, earlier than they would unless Albert pulled one of his drills on them.

The thought of freedom continued to creep into the leader's mind, and he persisted in squelching it, recognizing that they still needed to concentrate on the mission. Still, a few stray pondering about schools without words of hatred, and about streets without worries about capture, wouldn't hurt. Plus, he recalled, "we need to find a good place to build a campfire."

Concern over the Gestapo and other matters doused any excitement, so much had been swiped from them, Oskar still fretted over the possibility that even this could be taken from them. It already could have been taken from his mother...no, he couldn't allow himself to think like that. He'd lost so much, he insisted upon clinging to something which reminded him of his former, joyful life, before the horrors of Naziism took their toll on his nation.

As the truck ground to a halt, the Dutchman bid the sentry good morning, and consented to the request to search the back as Oskar went around to the rear of the vehicle. The lieutenant opened the back of the truck with great curiosity.

"See, it is just as we told you," noted the phony captain, with Oskar stepping up behind him.

"I see." The idea of such young children fighting seemed odd, but they could use all the forces they could muster at the front, no matter how inexperienced. Hitler Youth had been called upon to help, and some as young as their middle teens had offered to fight. "Your papers?"

Oskar handed numerous documents to the fellow, including the Rubins' fake ID cards. "You will see everything is in order," came the comment. "Now, we must leave quickly."

The lieutenant continued to study the curiosity. "Wait, I can see with the older ones, but what good will your girl and the wee little one do?"

"Their hands are smaller, they can fit shells into guns quickly," replied Oskar, indicating a box of ammunition. Had any of several box plans been in effect, that box would have housed the Rubins, and they would have either carried it - with numerous other people helping - or taken a truck the whole way. Still, he wished to avoid a needless search, even with the box being legitimate, as that would waste precious time. And, time could be as valuable as anything.

"If you are still not sure," the fake captain noted, "they are awaiting us at the front, as you can see; it is marked 'urgent', from Berlin - as any troop movement is. They can always march to the front, and I can take the truck later."

The lieutenant thought for a moment. That sounded legitimate, but he was still unsure. As he hesitated, Oskar decided it was time to be a little less subtle. "Why are you delaying the war effort?! Do you not know that every body we can get on the front buys the Fatherland more precious time?"

The faux captain, whose higher rank carried more authority, chimed in, asking adamantly "would you rather go instead, and be shot for treason?!" The phony captain smiled inwardly. He considered that the expectation that people would follow orders no matter what, and the dread imposed by the Nazis, combined to save many a person posing as a German officer. The evil they built their empire on was becoming their downfall.

As the others began to grin - thankfully, the practices had prevented any from showing nervousness - Oskar continued his harangue, letting off setam. "Here I thought we were coming to a checkpoint where people wanted to see a glorious victory! And what does this man show impressionable children?!" The sentries both began to sweat at this point, and felt a little disappointed that he couldn't' jump in with complaints. "This man shows children their troops care more about stalling. Would anyone else run right into the powerful army of the Fatherland?!?"

The lieutenant quickly relented. Of course, he pondered, escapees would travel someplace like Switzerland. This route would be nothing short of ludicrous. "T-take the truck with the supplies, and leave," he commanded nervously. They got in and drove several miles before stopping.

The day provided great brightness, but this also presented a problem. "Okay," the pseudo-captain stated, "we are away from the worst of the shooting, but there may be Allied snipers."

"What is a sniper," Oskar inquired.

"Someone who shoots at any enemy equipment or men while hiding behind trees, rocks, anything." He looked at Oskar's uniform pieces. "Take those off, they will not fire at you, then. Get the others out, and have them carry the white handkerchiefs so you will be seen to be surrendering." As they did so, the captain provided several possible directions, and bade them Godspeed, taking the truck back a different way.

The dawn showed an immense plateau which stretched for several miles. The smaller children trembled as gunfire echoed in the distance. Heidi glanced up at Oskar while holding his hand, stunned by the gore. "Is this that valley you talk about," came the weak voice.

"What valley," inquired Albert as they began to walk. He held Moses' and Isacc's hand, and Carl held Heinrich's and Micah's.

As they turned away from the long, dark figures of artillery in the ground, Heidi murmured "that one with the shadows, and the death."

She thinks it's a real place, recognized Oskar, who chose to nod his head. "It sure is," he considered aloud, wondering if the psalmist was ever through anything close to this.

As they marched, the group quietly sang hymns, mortar fire pounding all eardrums from a safe distance. Oskar tried to recall what little English his mother had taught him. Reminding the others how to surrender, the idea of freedom, after all these years, almost made him weep. Micah already shed a few tears.

As the marchers trod along, the sun behind them, they carefully avoided anything that sounded like gunfire. The older Jewish children wanted to shout with excitement. While the older youths considered life with freedom, and the younger ones anxiously awaited the ability to play uninhibited by what they could tell people, the Rubin children contemplated how worrisome and tedious their lives had been. Their parents had provided them with love, but they'd sensed the hatred all around them.

Micah recalled how terrified he'd get at times, as well as the relieved sensation when the practices were running so smoothly that Albert would whoop and exclaim that "we could get three hundred Jews out if we perform like this all the time." He thanked the boy for his determination in planning.

Isaac, meanwhile, considered the love shown by the Schultzes, and their undying devotion to them. He found it hard to comprehend, but somehow, he hadn't felt as scared down in the basement as he had in the outside world at times, mostly because he was surrounded by so much love, and by so little hatred.

Wearily, Moses plodded along, constantly losing ground until Albert would pull him forward again. "My legs are too tired," he whined.

Albert dropped back to pick him up. The weight was ponderous, but the lad recognized that - were the box plan in effect - they would all be carting a crate several times that size.

Oskar again meditated upon his favorite psalm. "Yes," the eldest muttered, gazing skyward, "we have journeyed through the valley of the shadow of death. And, through it all, you guided us. Your love and promises of victory over any evil allowed us to greatly glorify Your name in what we did. Thank you, Lord, thank you so very much."

Suddenly, a loud "Halt!" was heard by all, and they froze, stunned. It took them a second to realize the word was spoken in English. A group of half a dozen soldiers with American uniforms noticed them, and cocked their guns.

Albert put down the five-year-old, as he raised his arms and pronounced "we made it, praise the Lord.". They quickly held up their handkerchiefs, except for Micah, who whipped his out and held it for a second, then hugged one of the patrolmen, saying "thank you" and "praise the Lord" in English. Tears inched down all of their faces.

"It is a miracle," Carl declared. But, he considered, had it been? Or, had it just been good planning? After all, they'd prayed earnestly, and chosen the option based upon their hearts and minds. They'd studied the Scriptures, with Oskar being led toward the story of David and Goliath, and analyzed their circumstances - this way seemed odd, but it was also the best one, based on the situation. After that, they had simply prayed, stepped out in faith, and let God lead them. Miracles occurred when something totally unexplainable happened; this, however, was simply God working the way He should in all their daily lives.

"Friends," Oskar stated in English so the Americans would understand. "We are...running away from the Nazis." The group of soldiers maintained their dumbfounded demeanor as they glanced incredulously at one another and discussed what to do.

"Nobody warned us about this in training," one noted.

"Let them keep going, they are clearly civilians," spoke one. All agreed, they not only appeared unarmed, but several likely could not lift one of the Germans' larger guns.

A corporal wondered, "Are there any secret messages they are sending? We should take them back to camp and forego some of our patrolling."

"Is there a concentration camp near here, Sergeant," the private in the embrace with Micah inquired of the leader. While the children appeared uninjured, he'd heard stories of terrible atrocities within Germany's borders. The way this child, and soon Isaac and Moses, reacted, they could be from there. He thought of his own younger brother, probably about Micah's age, and felt sorrowful. These children running to freedom were no different than his siblings.

"Not that I know of," the leader commented, rubbing his chin, "but they could be injured." Several others clearly understood this to be the "official rationale" for taking care of them. "Where's the nearest MASH unit - Jones's, right?" After one fellow confirmed it was the one where the sergeant had recuperated once, the sergeant ordered to a corporal and to the private embracing Micah - "Bradley, Phillips, take 'em to our truck and get 'em there, we'll march back." He considered that some would be reluctant to assist Germans of any kind, but knew Major Jones would gladly help these kids.

Ed Jones considered the incredible number of wounded in their unit. He almost wished the troops would slow down, as they'd moved their unit twice in the last month to remain close to the front. However, he warned himself that in wartime, things changed way too fast. The Germans could always begin a major offensive and force them backwards, toward the Channel.

"Sir," came a hurried voice, as the corporal ran into the post-operating room, "we've got eight children coming, probably no problems, but Sergeant Harkin says you oughta have a look. He suspects they're from a concentration camp, though he didn't know enough German to ask."

Jones nodded grimly. "Okay, Sparky, just let me know when they get here." He grumbled a little, cursing the Nazis who had created such insanity. Already prematurely gray from countless sleepless nights caring for the injured, the doctor longed to be home with his family. Seeing children might make him even more lonely.

Oskar and the others skipped into the unit. Oskar smiled as he observed his charges chatting, letting off steam. They appeared a trifle suppressed, especially Moses, who had no recollection of running and playing happily and freely. However, while he shuffled cautiously, at least Moses moved around, exploring everything with a degree of interest. They'd done much to stimulate the young minds, and provided them with immense amounts of warmth and compassion.

Jones enjoyed the spectacle as he arranged the children on four different beds. He'd forgotten how active children could be. "Whoa," he said, "hold your horses, and sit down on these so I can make sure you're all okay." Oskar looked around and wondered where the animals were. "Sorry, guess you know a little English, huh?"

"Yes, Sir," spoke the teen in a thick German accent. "Very little." He was relieved when Jones switched to German.

"I can tell you're struggling, so we might as well speak German, I know more of that than you probably do English," Jones remarked. He'd taken three years of German in high school, plus he took a crash course for several months while preparing to serve in this MASH unit, just in case there were any Germans who needed treatment. He'd expected that his commanders meant soldiers; only later did any of them learn civilians could easily be involved.

He began to examine them, and smiled as Moses timidly handled the stethoscope. Heidi and Heinrich gazed around in awe while seated across from Moses and Isaac. Jones could tell they'd never seen anything like it. The youngsters discussed, in German, what numerous items might be. Jones understood over half of their words, partly because their vocabulary was not as large. Not as drawn by the myriad stimuli in the room, the older boys thanked the Lord that they no longer needed to fear. The concept of being away from the Nazis took a while to become firmly implanted, especially for the Rubins. The mindset was totally different here.

Jones studied the others for a moment, allowing Moses to analyze the instrument "You like that, huh? Think you might like to be a doctor?" The big eyes gazed longingly at the major, a grin crossing Moses' face. "Or a fireman? What do you want to be when you get big?"

Moses considered the concept for a few moments. Not accustomed to rapid change like the older ones, he still barely grasped that they were out of danger; only constant reassurance told him he could be unafraid. Indeed, several months before, he'd have thought "freedom" was a name of a place, as abstract thinking hadn't been possible in his still-developing mind. Hence, he spoke one word - "Free."

Having forgotten about the concentration camp concerns, the major felt shock, though he hid it well. If he wasn't in a camp, he was in hiding, Jones deduced, ordering Sparky to run to the cook and get the children some warm meals, then over to various places to scrounge up some clean clothes.

Oskar didn't recognize the terms, as Jones spoke of "chow" to the subordinate, but ascertained that food might have been sought. If it didn't come soon, he would quickly request it, for they'd eaten only paper the whole day. He couldn't discern the time, though he figured it must be close to supper time. Mother or Father should have gotten free and asked about us, he pondered, unsure of where they might be. He deduced that if his mother were questioned for a while, she might just now be leaving. She would have inquired as to the path they took, and come along the same route, unless something drastic occurred, such as the contacts being captured between the time they left and the time she left. Of course, if the Gestapo looked in one place, she might go a different way. The evils of his leaders still troubled him, though he considered that one of his parents certainly would have made it. Wouldn't they? Then again, they'd had little warning, and for the Rubins, there had been no warning.

"Could you please find out about our parents," Oskar asked finally, as nurses carried in tin plates and handed out loving smiles. He determined that food would soon follow.

Just finishing with Moses, Jones appraised the boy as fairly healthy, although one ear appeared infected, and he seemed rather dirty, with a couple small bites, possibly from fleas. Jones scribbled a note to obtain medicine for the infection. As he did so, he spoke soothingly. "Where are your parents, son," he inquired. "Did they leave with you?" Moses' face turned incredibly grim, and he and Isaac wept a little.

Micah, his voice trembling, choked as he spoke from another bed. "Our parents...are probably dead."

Jones dropped his pen and pad, his face carrying a look of astonishment as he went limp for a second. What was...how long...but didn't he just ask...thought the confused American.

As the doctor picked up the dropped items, Albert explained that "they are Jews," pointing at the three, "and we hid them in our basement for almost four years when the Gestapo took their parents away."

A little choked up, Jones considered the lad, unsure of how to respond. How could one find words to the myriad of emotions - fear, dread, loss, pain - imbedded in that single statement, let alone those which must be rushing through memories of the last few years. At last, he found the strength to utter "that was...really brave of you. You did a fine job."

Oskar explained that "our mother, Gretchen Schultz, did the most, but she was taken in by the Gestapo, we think, since she was going to come along our path and is not here yet. Our father, Hans, was in the military, at a prisoner of war camp, but we do not know where he is."

"German camp? Or captured by the Allies?" Did he understand what I meant by Allies, Jones wondered. The question soon became moot.

Carl spoke as Jones jotted down this and other vital information, such as their home town and the adults' appearance. "He was Master Sergeant at a German POW camp." Its name struck a familiar note in Jones's mind.

He looked up, raising an eyebrow as several others brought pots of food. Was that where that covert operation originated? He wished he could speak to someone from there, as he'd only heard of a few goings-on, and yet those appeared utterly unbelievable. The full story of the deeds done would be incredible, and he would certainly vow silence in return for hearing just a few snippets.

"I will let them know you are here. Sparky?" The corporal ran into the room and saluted. "Locate a Gretchen or Hans Schultz, maybe in Allied territory, maybe still in Germany, in which case you'll have to use code and find Captain Bedford so you can reach the Underground. Here's the vitals," he instructed him, handing over a sheet of paper.

Later that afternoon, Jones and Bedford, a tough-looking officer in his forties, quizzed the children in a large outer office on whether they'd seen any secret installations on their way out of Germany. The children answered politely, though they possessed little knowledge. However, some of their information on possible troop locations could prove helpful. Bedford prepared to radio the information directly to Allied soldiers.

He was impressed with the fact that the little girl appeared to possess the keenest awareness of unusual sights. "Of course I noticed things," she exclaimed proudly, "it was my job to watch for Ahab out the window."

Noticing blank stares, Oskar explained. "A wicked Old Testament king. That was our code name for Gestapo; we used lots of codes from the Bible." Bedford whistled, duly impressed.

Suddenly, an obese man, accompanied by Sparky, barged into the door, at first gawking with disbelief, then finally coming to his senses. He raced toward the children, hugging his five old, and three new, children, with tears of joy streaming down his face. "Oh, I am so proud of you, I am so glad you are all okay." The sight made Jones, Sparky, and even the normally stoic Bedford weep happily.

In German, Jones spoke after several minutes. "Mr. Schultz, I presume. I'm Major Ed Jones." The excitement still hadn't worn off on Schultz' face, which looked so shiny, Jones swore he saw his reflection in it. His heart filled with joy, Hans quickly signed forms that Jones procured, releasing his children to his care; they'd officially been refugees under government care before that. "I don't know where we can put you guys, but if you can help with the wounded I'm sure we can arrange something, probably at a hospital in London." He couldn't help but grin as he quipped - "And if you don't lose some weight, the next time you run like that, we're going to have our unit's first non-military casualty." The group laughed heartily.

After watching them all exchange large hugs, and hearing some of the tales of their ordeal, the intelligence officer turned and whispered to Jones. He wished he could avoid the subject amidst such glee, for the time seemed clearly inappropriate. However, no time would seem good, given the circumstances. "You know," came the extra-low voice, "I could see waiting till later today, when he got here, but soon you gotta tell him about his wife."

"I plan to, let's not rain on their parade," the major whispered back. Schultz heard the low voices, and quickly inquired as to why they whispered. "Well...we better step into my office." Jones gestured toward the smallest of the children, and instantly Oskar felt pangs of dread; his mother had given a similar glance toward Heidi almost four years ago.

Hans and Bedford quickly followed Jones. A couple small paintings stood around, with the Major's signature. "Now, what about my wife," Hans asked excitedly, deciding to inquire while they were there. Since he'd surrendered on a totally different part of the front than his children, he could understand why she might not have shown up yet. However, the worried looks shocked the man. Unlike Oskar, he hadn't developed the mindset that caused the adolescent to consider that nobody would act considerate, or that someone might actually die helping them. Hans hadn't had so many things ripped away from him. "Is she all right, where is she?"

Jones had told soldiers of deceased parents or siblings before, but never could he have fathomed telling somebody this. He put his hands behind his back and sighed. Anything I do will be easier than this, he pondered. "Well..." he began while looking down instantly. Glancing up, he merely uttered "we...just don't know." He counted his blessings to live in a country where things like this didn't take place.

Thanks for leaving it to me, thought the other officer sarcastically. "Last we heard," Bedford commented, "they were ordering her to a concentration camp in Austria."

"A...what," Schultz wondered. But, hadn't his wife said only Jews were taken...what was a concentration camp? He couldn't recall if she'd told him precisely what that was.

Bedford nodded grimly. "We got word from the Underground. They said the Gestapo had grilled her for while, and then they told her they'd captured a couple of the children and would torture them unless she talked. She couldn't take that for a second. She said they were headed for Sweden. Luckily, she mixed up a lot of names and addresses of contacts, so the Underground's safe, but still...Soon after, one of our agents saw her name on a list of people to be placed on a train for Dachau." The grim tone told him all he needed to know - her chances of survival were very remote.

"Can't...can't you get her out? What about Hogan?" Yes, that was the camp, thought Jones.

The intelligence officer put a hand on Schultz's shoulder, looking downcast. "You did a great job helping to free your countrymen by ignoring him, and you helped save those three. This was a lot earlier they heard, and he's going to try his best. But, I can't promise anything."

Schultz didn't have to tell Oskar anything. His face said it all, and while he told him there was a shred of hope, Oskar figured he knew better. Finally able to release the pent up anger, hurt, and frustration he'd concealed for years to ensure his friends' safety, Oskar cried as they had never seen a person cry, his tears flowing like a river for half the night. Hans comforted them as the last four years of heartache, sorrow, and fear all ran out at once.


	11. Hero's Welcome

**Chapter Eleven – Hero's Welcome**

Oskar spent the rest of that day crying, frustrated and angry at the country that had put him through this. Schultz didn't know what to do or say. He only knew it was best for him to remain there now. He didn't care if he was absent without leave. He had a lot of people to take care of.

Moses and some of the other younger children savored the cool, crisp air, amazing at the bright sunlight. He remembered little of the outside world, outside of the practices. The older Rubin children continued to try to recall their parents, the concept of how many perished overwhelming all but Oskar and, perhaps, Albert, as the sheer numbers were so large.

The next day, with Schultz finally resigned to never returning to Germany, an ambulance pulled up. Jones walked in to where they were weeping and reminiscing a short time later. "I think you're all going to want to come to see this." When Schultz asked what it was, he simply insisted that they all come and look.

Oskar was very hesitant, but the younger ones told him he had to come, too. They still believe anything can happen, he told himself, longing for the time when he, too believed in fairy tales.

Suddenly, he raised his head, tears began streaming down his face. "Mother! You are alive!" He raced up to the stretcher and hugged her warmly. She couldn't move very well, but she was able to greet each of them weakly. "What did they do to you?" he asked fearfully.

"Does it matter?" Gretchen asked. "I always said…the important thing is…that you children are safe."

Only now did Schultz and the children notice Hogan, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau. "How did you do it?" they asked almost all at once.

"That's what I'd like to know myself," Bedford admitted.

"Well, there wasn't any hope for us; we called in the nick of time as it was. But, there was one man who would storm Hitler's bunker if he thought he could get at information leading directly to me," Hogan explained, modestly hiding a grin.

Newkirk couldn't help but laugh. "When Kinch called later to make sure Heidelberg Gestapo had gotten his call, they told him the bloke was almost breathin' fire on the phone."

"They refused at first, but then were afraid if they didn't take her up there, he was gonna send the whole city of Heidelberg to the Eastern Front," Carter noted.

"Oui, and tell them about the raid, that is the best part," LeBeau declared.

"Oh, yeah," Hogan said, "Carter had done this blustery general beforehand telling Hocstetter he had to stay put because of an inspection, so of course, Heidelberg Gestapo had to bring her up to us. We waited on the side of the road, with a few others, and ambushed the vehicle."

"Hochstetter an' his goons came to make sure the colonel was there, that's why we was a little late in comin' an' couldn't even use the radio. Then 'e went down to Heidelberg, an' he's probably ready to breathe real fire at them for losin' his prisoner," Newkirk explained.

"While they are mad at him for taking their prisoner," LeBeau said with a smile.

Jones and Bedford shook their heads. "I don't know how you do it," Bedford said with awe.

Jones concurred. "Here I'd thought I'd have to wait till after the war to sit down and hear stories, and you boys just show up right here. Talk about audacity."

Hogan admitted, "I've always been a dreamer. I don't know if I'll live to see man walk on the moon, but I've been able to do some amazing things with the help of my men.'

"Using Hochstetter does not sound very subtle," Schultz noted.

Carter admitted that sometimes, bluster worked better with the Germans. "Of course, they wouldn't have probably listened to me, but Hochstetter does a mean, blustery German even better."

"We're glad, too," Hogan said, reminding Carter he was an American.

Despite her weakened state, Gretchen managed to chuckle. "I would hate to be a fly on the wall down there now, with Major Hochstetter confronting those men."

"Ja, both sound like real meanies. Although, I was able to get us by them." Oskar cleared his throat. "That is, God was able to use me to defeat them." Heinrich told them what he'd done.

Hogan didn't hand out praise willy nilly, but he was genuinely impressed at the incident as they were fleeing. "That's mighty good how you did that. Sounds like you all did a wonderful job. You might have gone a little overboard, but you can probably tell mine do the same sometimes."

"Oh, yeah, like when I impersonated the Fuhrer…"

The doctor on duty halted Carter and reminded them that they should let Mrs. Schultz rest.

They left Mrs. Schultz alone with her husband for a while, and asks he rested, she told the story of the rescue as she'd heard and imagined it.

------------------------------

Carter's blustery general had told Hochstetter to stay put that morning; he would be coming at any time that tday, but yet it was to be a surprise. Suddenly, Kinch called and asked for him. "There is a woman being held in Heidelberg, her name is Gretchen Schultz. Her husband has been completely ignorant, but she has information that can lead you directly to papa Bear."

Hochstetter began salivating as he took down details. "Ja…ja…ja, danke!" He rose and almost started to leave, when he realized, "Wait a minute, what a time for an inspection. Get me Heidelberg Gestapo," he requested once he was back on the phone and at his desk. "After formalities, he told them about the prisoner.

"We are sorry, but presently she is about to be sent to Dachau."

"I do not care if she is Eva Braun, you do not understand, she has information leading to papa Bear." They refused; their orders were clear. "You are daring to defy me! Do you not know that she has information leading to the most dangerous man in all of german! Bridges blowing up, important men disappearing, experiments ruined, sabotage everywhere, Himmler, Goering, and even the Fuhrer there and not there; this is the most dangerous man in all of Germany, and if you do not bring this prisoner to me so I can get her information, I could have grounds to charge you with treason!" They would have to speak with their superiors. "Bah, I will call my superiors, I will call Himmler himself, there is no prisoner more important than Papa Bear! If you do not bring her to me right away, I will have you sent to the Eastern front; I will send your whole city to the Eastern front!"

He described in more detail what Papa Ber had done, and after a few more minutes, they finally relented. They knew Hochstetter and his reputation, and had heard of Pap Bear, too. If this person had information leading directly to him, they would send her there; Hochstetter would not let anyone share the glory in capturing him.

However, a fake checkpoint that afternoon had led to Gretchen being taken by Hogan and his men and told her children were safe. They'd gotten word from Baker, back at Stalag 13.

Unfortunately, they then had to go to radio silence and seal the tunnels, because they knew Hochstetter would wonder where they were, and he did; he'd come and torn the place apart, so they had to seal all the tunnels. They'd let the drivers go so they could say with certainty that none of the bandits was as fat as Schultz. The next day, they'd picked Gretchen up and, with the Allies owning the skies, cause a small, waiting plane that would take them over to the Allied side, where they could reunite Gretchen with her husband.

------------------------------

"And what a wonderful reunion it is," Carl said as they were all back together later that evening.

"I will take a while to recover…but, I will make it," Greatchen promised. "We are all safe now," she assured her children once more.

"Ja. I will have to stay here, too. If the prisoners reported back, Klink knows I deserted."

"No, Schultz, actually…" Hogan held his hat in his hand. "Well, once they had a roll call, Hochstetter was lambasting Klink about the fact a prisoner was missing that was going to be sent to him. And, I got him to admit she was a prisoner because she was hiding Jews. So…right now Klink's kind of depressed. In fact, I better get back to him."

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Major Hochstetter had arrived at Stalag 13, and promised to search the entire camp. Hogan and his men had sealed the tunnels, with a couple people down in the tunnels with Gretchen, able to provide medical help. They'd gotten her in through the emergency tunnel, and put the truck back in the motor pool, with Klink not knowing it had been out.

"I do not care about Schultz, I want to know where his wife is," Hochstetter screamed that evening, slapping Klink's desk with his gloves. Hogan entered, and the major quickly shouted, "Hogan, get out, we were discussing something top secret."

"Hard to believe, Major, the way you're shouting we can all hear, anyway."

"A prisoner was being brought to me from Heidelberg who had information that would led directly to your arrest, what do you know about this?"

"What's there to know, I've been here all afternoon, right, Kommandant?"

"That is right, Major, he has."

"Bah, my men are searching this camp inch by inch, if Hogan has any information we will know. We also have a device in the area that can detect radio transmissions."

"Why was she a prisoner? Wait, I know, big name agent. Nimrod?"

"No, she…why am I talking to you?"

"Well, you wanted a special roll call taken right when you came in, I thought maybe you'd like to see more of my face."

"Hogan, the only place I would like to see your face is a holding cell."

"I bet I know, then; plot to kill the Fuhrer, right? I'll bet she was the mastermind."

"Hogannnn, you heard the major, get out!"

Hogan figured if he let Hochstetter get too riled, he might tell, which might let them get Klink on their side. "Let's see, so if she wasn't trying to kill Hitler," he said, gesturing with a cigar he'd swiped unnoticed, "and she wasn't a spy…" He snapped his fingers. "Black market?"

"Klink, what is this man doing here?!"

"Playing 20 questions."

"Out!" Klink said, holding the door now.

"Come on, Kommandant, the game's just started. Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

"WHAT IS THIS MAN DOING HERE?!?!"

"Okay, I got sixteen questions left. Does it start with a 'J'?"

"Yes, for your information, she was hiding Jews on her property, now get out!"

"Helping other people is a crime; I didn't know that, did you, Kommandant?"

Klink was stunned. "Major…that does not sound like a crime to me."

As Hochstetter took Klink's mind off of that by railing about Papa Bear once more, Hogan told him, "We'll talk later."

Once the Gestapo had left later that evening, Hogan went into Klink's office. "Rough day?"

"Hogan…I know sometimes you play around, like with Major Hochstetter this afternoon. But, what he said…can you please be completely honest, no matter how much it hurts?"

"Sure . I can tell you're feeling pretty bad already." He took the bottle of schnapps off his desk; it was half empty. "NO more schnapps tonight, okay?" He agreed. "Look, I don't know what's been happening, or what all they've done. But, I do know that what the major says is true.It is a crime. And, Schultz knew, too."

"Did he really wind up in a hospital looking for your men?"

"No. he's with his children now – his own and the Jewish ones – in a secret location."

"Hogan…the way Major Hochstetter talked after you left, it sounded like this was something…I do not know how to describe it, it seems so horrible, to say that one cannot be friends with or help innocent people."

Hogan looked down. "I've got this horrible knot in my stomach that tells me when this is all over, we're all gonna feel that way. Look, Kommandant, Gretchen's safe, too. But, we have to reunite her with with her family. Once we do that, you have my word that we'll come back. We always do, don't we?"

"That is true. Tell Schultz he can stay if he wants. I will even see he gets his pay sent to him. I know this is probably a very hard time…because I know what I am thinking about my own friends from years ago." Klink would consider this a furlough, even if he did come back.

Hogan promised. As he left, he told Kinch they had Klink's help for tomorrow. "Stay here just in case we would need to leave. And…well, try to keep Klink out of the schnapps."

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"Klink know your wife helped, Schultz. He knows you need some time with your family. If you don't want to come back, he understands."

"He does?" Oskar thought for a moment, glancing at his mother to make sure she was still there, still breathing, after the worry and frustration he'd felt. "If he is willing to understand…maybe it would be okay to go back after the war," he said hesitantly, starting to believe again in miracles, like his country getting better, and things returning to normal.

Now, Schultz was the one who was uncertain. "I do not know. Whether it would be easier to start my company over in Germany or the United States, I do not know."

Hogan promised to help. "Our headquarters is going to be Heidelberg after the war. So, we can help. I'll have leverage with what I've done. We could use a good toymaker's help to start making things pleasant for the kids again. Of course, if you come back, you don't know that."

"Danke. If the others are all right with it, we will start in Germany, and for now I will know noth-ing." The others left. Schultz sat next to his wife, and held her hand. "I know it was rough, liebchen. But, I will be here for you."

"Hans…it is okay…You may go back."

Schultz said he would; it would be safe, if she was okay with it. "It sounds like the Big Shot and the others will take care of me, and keep me safe, it is true. But, what about you?"

"I will be fine. The children will be able to help. I think we will need to spend time alone, just having fun…and, being free."

"Jones was telling me there was a family on a farm in northern England, who they had found to take all the children in. They will have room." He had faith, and would soon have it confirmed, that Gretchen could also recuperate there. "I cannot believe what the war has done to us. As a family, and as a people. I am just glad you are safe."

"Hiding in the tunnels, which they had sealed, and getting out on that plane they flew in…was easy compared to what it would have been….I was ready, though, Hans…I was thinking of that verse…now is laid up for me the crown of victory…I had even given a victory speech, if you will…when the guards told me where I was going...I suppose, like the children here, I, too, finally felt free to say what was on my mind…And, somehow, I had faith that they were free."

She thought back to the speech. "I know the God I serve, a holy and just God, who cannot bear evil. I forgive you for what you are about to do. I know before me lie bountiful treasures, and I shall throw off this body which is corrupted for an incorruptible one! Know that you can do the same if you acknowledge your sins and repent, and turn from your wicked ways and toward that God of love, and His gift of eternal life in a sinless glory through Jesus Christ the Lord.

"Your deeds have been most cruel, your policies most evil, your racism most treacherous. You blaspheme God with talk of a master race, and you commit treason against Him by hating an entire people, with whom you are equal!

"I gladly give for the cause of Christ, whom I serve today by forfeiting my life for innocents, that they might grow in His everlasting lovingkindness! May you come to repentance, to renounce your evil ways before Christ, and may God have mercy on your souls!"

"I hope some of them listened." She did, too. "I suppose, if you are all right with it, I will leave for a few months." The reunion would be that much sweeter, when they finally made it back to Heidelberg and began rebuilding, with Klink working for them. "But, I am staying here a couple more days; for you and the children. It sounds like Colonel Hogan has arranged it. And, while I feel for Kommandant Klink being depressed, he will probably listen better to Colonel Hogan. Meanwhile, I suppose this is a furlough."

"Ja. And, when we go back there, we will be able to help the people recover." They shared a warm hug.

A/N: I was torn how to end it, because as you may have guessed, in the original, which was only to hint at it being a Hogan's story other than with Schultz, Mrs. Schultz was a martyr, the symbol of those who gave their lives, and Hogan's operation was discovered at the same time, so Hogan couldn't help.

As I worked on this, however, I felt it would be more like a Hogan's story if she survived. Not only that, but there is one episode which may well take place after this end ("Look At All the Pretty Snowflakes") and Schultz was there, obviously. A break like this for him to be gone is quite likely, and it's after every other episode, if not that one, but if she hadn't survived, I think he would have stayed, as in the original, when they don't go back to Germany, and the story's end is 25 years later with them reminiscing at a memorial.

It may have more impact if she had died; that's true; that's why it was originally that way. Still, I believe Hogan would try to help, and the more I thought about it, using Hochstetter the way I have might have been one of their easier operations, given Hochstetter's feelings about Hogan. Therefore, only their operation shutting down at the same time would keep them from helping, and I thought that was too coincidental, as she wouldn't know enough to implicate them.


End file.
